Dreams Will Fade
by plainjane
Summary: Ken has never talked about his trip to the Olympics with anyone, including the Ducks. Why won't he talk about it? And between school and the Ducks, does skating have a place in his future?
1. Unwelcome Memories

This is my first MD fic, but I'm not sure exactly where it's going.  I've been in a pensive mood lately and this is what's come out of it.  I've got a couple of ideas about how to continue this, but I'm not sure I'll be able to pull them off.  We'll see…

Just a note before I get started…Even though they are the most fun as far as stories go, this isn't a romance.  Mainly because I am the world's suckiest romance writer.  Trust me…it's really messy.

And I would love to know what you guys think of this.  So either way, let me know, ok?

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, grandfather, Elaine, etc.

So…here we go!

    Shivering in the damp cold, Kenny Wu hurried across the asphalt parking lot toward the ice arena, hockey skates in hand.  After spending several months in Minnesota, Ken though he would be used to cold weather, but the humid San Francisco air turned a would-be winter chill into a biting arctic cold he could feel cut through his bones.  Jogging the last few feet to the arena entrance, he welcomed the warm air of the ice arena lobby.

    Ken paused in the lobby to warm up and looked around, feeling slightly nostalgic.  It had been several years since he had been in this arena; the last time was just before the Junior Goodwill Games, just over two and a half years ago, when he had made the decision to give up figure skating in favor of playing hockey.  Though he didn't recognize the attendant working behind the front counter, it seemed as if nothing else had changed.  A set of glass doors to the left of the counter led to a walkway between the two ice rinks below.  A set of stairs just to the right of the doors led downstairs to the rink entrances, a skate rental counter, a concession stand and the pro shop.  Which reminded Ken why he was here.

    He hurried through the glass doors and down the stairs, praying that the pro shop was still open.  Ken had noticed he was sliding on his edges a bit during one of the last practices at Eden Hall before winter break but never found the time to take care of it.  He berated himself for letting it go so long, but as he saw the "open" sign still lit in the window the pro shop, he slowed down and breathed a sigh of relief.  

    Ken walked towards the shop, which was situated at the far end of the building between the two rinks and watched the skaters on each.  On the rink to his left was an open public session, but there were no more than twenty people on the ice.  Ken didn't find this too surprising since it was –he checked his watch–  4:38 pm on New Year's Eve.  On the opposite rink was a lone figure skater, which did surprise Ken.  For most of the serious skaters, the only days they took off from skating were the ones when the rink was closed.

    Turning his attention back to the pro shop, Ken walked in the open door and up to the counter where a kid a few years older than Ken was looking very bored.  Ken slung his skates onto the counter, saying, "I need to get these sharpened.  Is there any way I can get them back in the next two days?"

    "Sure, man." The kid replied.  "Shop's closed tomorrow, but you can pick 'em up on the second."

    "Perfect." Ken replied; he was leaving for Minnesota on the third.

    "That's ten bucks." 

    Silently grumbling at the price of sharpening, Ken handed over the money, knowing it was worth it.

    Nodding a goodbye to the kid behind the counter, Ken walked back between the two rinks, watching the skater on the rink now to his left.

    She wasn't the best skater he'd seen before, but she was pretty good, he thought, watching her land a double Axel.  He continued watching her as she went into another attempt and cringed as she let her shoulders get ahead of the rest of her body and crashed to the ice on the landing.  As she got up, knocked the ice off her legs and skated around for another jump, Ken got the feeling he had seen her somewhere before.

    She was tall for a female skater, maybe a few inches shorter than him, with a slender, muscular build and long dark brown hair pulled into ponytail.  She carried herself on the ice a bit like a dancer; back straight, shoulders down, head up, and had the speed and power to her skating that looked like she had been skating for many years.  But Ken knew that wasn't why she seemed familiar; there were hundreds of skaters that matched that description.  She seemed to give off an energy through her skating, something that pulled your eyes to her and impressed her emotion upon you.  Ken had only known a few people who held that kind of passion in their skating, and as she flew past the boards closest to him, he realized who she was.

    "Hey Elaine!" Ken shouted, leaning out the door in the boards, onto the ice.  The girl skidded to a stop at hearing her name and skated towards him.  For a few seconds she stared at him, unable to place him, and then an expression of recognition flashed over her face.

    "Kenny!" she exclaimed, grinning wildly.  "What are you doing here?"

    "I could ask you the same thing." Ken replied, grinning back.  "The last time I saw you here was…" he paused, thinking, "when you got injured." He finished lamely, not sure how she'd react to the memory.  Elaine, who was about five years older than Ken, had been one of the top skaters in their San Francisco skating club. She was a top competitor in the Senior ladies division at competitions before she'd badly injured her hip just before the 1994 National Championships, leaving her unable to skate at all.  Ken made his decision to drop figure skating just a few months after, and hadn't seen her since.

    But Elaine smiled.  "Yeah, I took some time out to finish high school and let my hip heal and all that.  I even got accepted to Stanford, I'm studying sports psychology now.  I picked up skating again about a year and a half ago."

    "Wow," said Kenny, impressed.  "So are you training for the Olympics again?" he asked.

    "Oh goodness, no!" she laughed.  "My competitive days are long over, I'm just skating for fun.  What about you?  I haven't heard from you since before the Olympics!  Aaron Plested told me you quit skating and started playing hockey."

    "I did." Ken told her.  "After the Olympics I got an offer to join the USA hockey team for the Junior Goodwill Games.  After we won, my teammates and I got scholarships to play hockey for a prep school in Minnesota, so that's where I am.  I'm just home for winter break."

    "Wow, that's awesome." Elaine said smiling, then shook her head in disbelief.  "Of all the people I expected to quit skating, you sure weren't one of them.  Why'd you decide to quit?"

    Ken hesitated.  "It was just time for a change." He replied slowly.

    Elaine nodded.  "Well, I've only got fifteen minutes left before they kick me off the ice, so I'd better quit talking.  But it was really good to see you again, Kenny.  Good luck with your hockey."

     "Thanks," he replied.  "Good luck with school and stuff." he called after he as she skated away.  As an afterthought, he called back to her again.

    "Hey Elaine!"

    "Hey Kenny!" she replied, turning to face him.

    "Did you miss it?" he asked, almost sure of the answer.

    "Every day." She grinned and took off around the ice.

    Ken grinned back and began climbing the stairs back to the lobby.  Once there, he zipped up his winter jacket, bracing himself for the cold.  Somehow, walking to the ice arena seemed a much better idea when he had been sitting in his warm house.

    Half and hour later, Ken burst through the door of his house, relieved to finally be home.  He shrugged off his coat, hung it in the closet and jumped up and down a few times to warm up.  _If it's gonna be this cold out, it should at least snow_, he thought to himself as he heard a voice from the down the hall.

    "Kenny?  Is that you?"

    "Yeah, Mom, it's me." He answered as he wandered down the hall to the kitchen, where he found his mother, still wearing her winter coat, emptying several bags of groceries.  He grabbed several cans of soup from one bag and opened the pantry.

    "Where've you been?" his mother asked, not accusatory, simply curious.  Ken liked that about his parents; they always trusted his judgment and his actions.  He knew a lot of kids, from school mostly, that had terrible relationships with their parents for one reason or another.  Ken was thankful he didn't have to worry about that; along with trusting him, his parents were his strongest support no matter what he chose to do.

    "I ran over to the rink to get my skates sharpened.  I've been meaning to do it all break, but I just kept putting it off.  Charlie would kill me if I came back to school sliding all over the ice."

    "And how was the rink?" his mother asked, her slightly muffled voice coming from the fridge.  "It been several years since I've been down there."

    "Same here," replied Ken.  "Not much has changed.  It's probably gotten a new coat of paint in the last couple years, but it was pretty much the same."  He paused a moment, thinking.  "Do you remember Elaine Porter?" He asked.

    "The wild girl?" Ken's mother asked.

    "That's the one." Ken nodded, laughing.  When Elaine had moved to San Francisco to train at the age of twelve, she quickly earned a reputation for being a wild skater.  She fell more than any other skater Ken had ever seen.  She used to jokingly refer to herself as " the human Zamboni."

    "I was always amazed at some of the falls she took." Ken's mom reminisced.  "I remember sitting in the stands with her mother and several other mothers watching you guys practice one day.  It was when she was still fairly new, so she was probably working on double Axels and she took this horrific looking fall.  All of us either cringed or gasped in shock and her mother just laughed.  And Elaine was just sitting out there on the ice, grinning like a maniac and laughing along with her mother.  I couldn't believe it."  Ken laughed along with his mother.

    "Once she was able to get her skating under control, she was a beautiful skater.  It was a shame when she got hurt."

    "Yeah," Ken agreed.  "But she's skating again.  I saw her at the rink."

    "Really?  Is she training for Nationals again?"

    "No." Ken answered.  "She's definitely not up to the level she used to skate at.  But she's going to school now.  She said she going to Stanford."

    "Good for her." Ken's mother smiled.  "I'm always amazed by how many things you guys are able to succeed at.  Not many people would be able to balance so much."

    Ken's smile was unsure.  Was his mom talking about him?  Or about the kid he used to be?  Like most of the figure skaters Ken trained with, he had always excelled at school and worked hard in the rigorous training regiment high level skating required.  While he still got excellent grades, some days Ken felt like the training Coach Orion put them through was nothing compared to what he used to do.  Though those were usually the days he didn't have to do fifty laps.

    "Oh, Ken," his mother's voice broke through his thoughts, "I almost forgot.  We got a package from you grandfather today.  It's our holiday gifts.  He's always a little late."  She pointed to a large box sitting on the table, surrounded by grocery bags.  Ken shoved the bags out of the way and opened the box.  Inside were two smaller wrapped boxes; one addressed to Ken and one addressed to Lynn and Tom, his parents.  Ken handed his mom her box, which he knew contained tea.  Every year his grandfather sent his parents tea from China; they always thought it tasted better than American tea.

    Ken sat down and ripped the paper off his present but stopped when he saw the box.

    "Mom."

    There was a sudden chill in Ken's voice that made Ken's mother abandon her groceries.  She crossed the kitchen to stand next to her son's chair and looked at the box.  She sighed, opened it and pulled out a brand new pair of men's figure skates.  

    "Oh Kenny, I'm sorry." She said, setting the skates back in the box and putting an arm around her son.

    "He knows I quit skating over two years ago!" Ken cried angrily.  

    "He does know.  But he was disappointed when you quit skating.  He hasn't been able to handle it like the rest of us have.  I know that's no excuse…" She tried to reassure him.

    "Were you disappointed?" Ken asked quietly, his mother's words ringing in his ears.

    His mother pulled up another chair from the kitchen table and sat down facing her son.  "The hardest part was seeing you give up something you dreamt of your whole life, something you worked so hard for.  But your father and I just wanted you to be happy, and if that meant trying something new, that was fine.  And I know hockey has made you happy." She smiled warmly at her son.  "I can tell by the way you talk about it, the way you talk about your team.  And by the way you've spent several hours nearly every day you've been home at the gym, working out so you'll be ready to go back.  And look at you now.  You aren't my little Kenny anymore." She ruffled his hair.

    "Mo-om…" Ken complained, trying to hid a grin.  His mom was right.  He was still on the smaller side compared to most of his teammates, but he now towered over his mother, who stood five feet flat.  

    "That's better." She said, spotting his grin.  "Why don't you stick those up in the attic until we decide what to do with them.  Your father will be home soon.  I thought we'd have something interesting for dinner and if you wanted, we could do our usual New Year's ritual."

    "Yeah, that sounds good." Ken smiled.  His family had never celebrated the New Year quite as elaborately as most.  More of their attention went to the fourteen-day celebration for the Chinese New Year, even though Ken was often in school.  But New Year's Day was one of the few days of the year the rink was closed, so Ken and his parents had always stayed up a bit later, not having to be up at 4 am the next morning.  They'd watch movies or play board games, stuff that seemed pretty uneventful to most people, but Ken had always enjoyed the time off with his parents.

    He picked up the skate box and walked down the hall to the stairs.  On the second floor, he pulled down the stepladder in the ceiling, leading to the attic.  With the box under one arm, he climbed the ladder, breathing in the smell of dust and mothballs, and nearly tripped.  Once his feet were firmly on the attic floor, he looked around, not quite sure where to put the skates.

    The attic was a mess.  One thing about his parents; they never threw anything away.  At least, judging by the attic, they didn't.  The entire far wall of the attic was completely hidden by piled furniture; a broken bookcase, ripped overstuffed chairs, a very tiny kitchen table, an ancient looking desk that appeared to be molding, and the mattress Ken had busted wide open when he was eight and decided to try triple Axels on his bed.  He still had the scar on his back from getting caught on one of the metal springs.  The rest of the attic was filled with boxes.  Ken knew quite a few of these held various holiday decorations, but he couldn't point them out to save his life.  Several battered and shabby looking boxes were marked with heavily faded Chinese characters; Ken could just barely make out what he thought was his mother's name, so he figured they were from when she moved from Beijing to San Francisco. 

    Ken spotted a few newer looking boxes with his name on them.  He carefully made his was over to the boxes and dropped the skates on the floor.  He tugged open the first box and pulled out a few Polaroid photographs.  He looked at them, quickly threw them back in the box and shut it.  No one must ever see those.  He shoved the box behind another, containing what looked like old baby clothes.

    "Why do adults insist on making babies wear ridiculous hats?" Ken wondered out loud, pulling another box toward him.  This one, to his relief, was filled with old school books.  He spent a couple minutes laughing at his atrocious spelling before moving on to another box.

    Ken opened a particularly large and heavy box and immediately wished he hadn't.  This box was filled with some of his old skating stuff.  On the top was a framed picture of Ken when he was nearly four years old with his grandfather at his very first skating competition.  That photo had hung in Ken's room for ages and he only now realized it was missing.  Ken felt a wave of guilt and anger wash over at the sight.  How dare his grandfather assume so much as to send him a new pair of skates!  _It's not like he was my coach anymore_, thought Ken, staring at the photograph.

    Ken's grandfather was the first to recognize Ken's talent for skating.  His grandfather had learned to skate when he came the U.S. from China after World War II and skated several years in shows around the country.  After he got married and settled in San Francisco, he turned to coaching.  Ken's father had learned how to skate, but he had neither the talent nor the drive to continue with it.  But very early on, his family found that Ken had both.  

    His grandfather first put him on skates at 2 1/2 and after watching him startling adults by darting around them on the ice, fall and pick himself up again, his parents agreed to let Ken take ice skating lessons.  He progressed quickly, picking up jump after jump, spin after spin, always eager to learn more difficult maneuvers.  After taking first place in his first beginner competition, Ken's aspirations grew even bigger.  But by the age of seven, Ken had outgrown his grandfather's expertise and began working under the instruction of one of the top coaches in California.  A year later Ken's grandfather made the decision to return to China and spend his remaining years in his homeland, but continued to support Ken's skating, often calling long distance to hear every detail of Ken's most recent performances and training and reminding Ken of his enormous talent and potential, which continued to develop.  At the age of nine, Ken won the National Championships on the Novice level; a year later he took the same title as a Junior.  Skating in his first Senior level Nationals at age eleven, Ken placed fifth, skating against skaters twice his age.  That same year he won the Junior World Championships.  The next year, he won the silver medal at Nationals and qualified for the U.S. Olympic team.  For years, people had been talking about the little kid with a big future.

    Ken placed the photo on the floor and pulled a large pile of magazine and yellowing newspaper clippings from the box.  At the top of the pile was the cover of a _Skating_ magazine featuring the U.S. Olympic Figure Skating team, with Ken standing near the center, looking very young.  _I can't believe I was ever that small_, he thought.  Under that was a clipping from the local newspaper after Ken made the Olympic team, bearing the headline _San Francisco Youth Skates Onto World Stage_.  Under the headline was a large picture of Ken wearing his silver medal.  Next to it was a smaller picture of Ken in mid-jump.  Casting these aside, he found a series of articles from a national newspaper by AP writer Debra Deering.  The first of these articles was just after he won the Junior National title and continued through the Olympics; the last article screaming the headline _Olympic Skater Disappointed With Performance; Future In Jeopardy_.  

    Ken quickly shoved these aside and dug back into the box.  He pulled out a handful of clippings that were slightly less aged than the others and bearing headlines like _USA Downs Trinidad_ and _Flying V Soars Over Germany_.  Ken grinned, recognizing the articles from the Junior Goodwill Games.  He dug further, pulling out team photos, his old Team USA warm ups and a squashed Wheaties box bearing another picture of Team USA.  Ken laughed, he couldn't believe his parents saved all this stuff.  Still, it made him feel a bit better to know his parents had saved some of his hockey stuff too.  Now that he had mentioned it, he couldn't help wondering how much he had disappointed his parents when he quit skating.  And he was angry with himself for not thinking or asking about it sooner.  His parents had put just as much into his skating career and Ken himself had.  They both worked hard to pay for his ice time and coaching and for a short time, his mother had taken on a second job, working nights.  Had he really been so self-centered?  _You were upset and angry and only twelve years old,_ Ken reminded himself.  Not that he was much older now, having just turned fifteen in late November, but at least he was beginning to realize there were people just as important as himself in his life.

    Ken sighed.  Was this what he deserved for coming home?  He hadn't ever felt the need to worry or wonder about his decision; why was it bothering him now?  Was it being home?  Seeing the rink and all his memories?

    "Ken?" a voice filtered through his thoughts.  "You up there?"

    "Yeah Dad." Ken replied.

    "Well hurry on down.  Dinner's almost ready." His father called to him from below.

"Be right down." Ken called back.  He waited till he heard his father's footsteps on the stairs.  He gathered together the articles and clippings and the photo of him and his grandfather and for lack of a better place to put them for now, stuffed them in the skate box.  He pulled the box under his arm and climbed down the ladder.  He sprinted to his room, tossed the box on top of his hockey bag and joined his parents for dinner, pushing the attic from his mind.  He'd be able to sort it all out later, once he was away from everything and back at school with the Ducks.  


	2. Going Home

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

So I'm going to attempt to keep this going…I've still got a couple of different ways I could take this, so if you have any opinions or ideas, let me know.

A billion and a half thanks to my two reviewers, you guys are awesome!!!  And yeah, it doesn't seem like there are a whole lot of Ken fics, but there are a few really good ones out there.  And Ken wasn't really my favorite either until I realized he's probably the only Duck I could realistically write a whole story about.  So now he's tied for my fave.  With Guy, of course…

And I would love to know what you guys think of this.  If you like it, tell me!  If you hate, great!, tell me why!  And if you don't care either way, tell me your favorite cookie!  Mine's butterscotch chip…mmm….ok, moving on.

    "Now you've got everything, right?  Your books and skates and everything?" Ken's mother fussed over him.

    "Yeah, mom," he replied impatiently, holding up his backpack.  "We checked my suitcase and skates and I've got my bag.  Don't worry."  While his mother was cool about most things, she hated flying.  And hated it even more when her son was on a plane.  But her nerves were at their worst this morning because they had all over slept.  After waking up late and still having to pack, Ken only had time to haphazardly stuff everything in his hockey bag and suitcase.  Still, he was sure he had gotten everything and his hurrying had paid off; they had made it to the airport with some time to spare.

    "Come on Lynn," his father said, winking at Ken, "he's got to catch his plane."

    Ken hugged his parents goodbye, his mother still fussing over him, and got in a line for the metal detectors.  Once through, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and checked his watch.  He still had forty-five minutes before his flight left.  He had time to grab something to eat before his plane left.  He wandered around the terminal, grimacing at the numerous fast food places.  His mom's fantastic cooking, coupled with many years living on an athletic training diet left Ken with no appetite for fast food, unlike some of his friends, who could live on the stuff.  He stopped at a small newsstand and bought a bag of pretzels and a bottle of water.  Those would be better than nothing.

    Ken settled himself into a chair in front of his gate and pulled out a worn copy of _To Kill A Mockingbird_.  All of his classes had been assigned work over the winter break and he had done most of it, but had let the reading for English slide a bit, in favor of understanding and finishing geometry work.  No matter.  He had a three and a half hour flight to Chicago, a two-hour layover, and another hour and twenty-minute flight to Minneapolis.  He opened to the first page and began reading, "_When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow…_"

    Six and a half hours later Ken had finished _To Kill A Mockingbird_, was most of the way through _1984_, and was on the last leg of his flight, mere minutes away from landing in Minneapolis.   At this point, he couldn't have been happier.  Five hours of sitting in cramped airline seats was not his idea of a good day; it would be good to walk around and stretch.

    All the same, Ken was approaching his return to Eden Hall with mixed feelings.  He loved his parents and enjoyed the time he spent with them, but being home had triggered memories and emotions he wasn't ready to deal with yet.  Hopefully he could push them aside and worry about more important things once he was back at school.  

    Eden Hall was an entirely different story.  The school itself wasn't too bad; the classes were, at the very least, manageable and many of them were actually interesting and likeable.  Even a good number of the kids were all right, once they had finally gotten used to the Ducks.  The Ducks had figured out that they weren't the only ones who hated the way the Varsity hockey team tried to own the school; even the Varsity football and baseball players didn't act like that.  So after numerous pranks, the scholarship hearing, and the Freshman/Varsity game, most of the other students warmed up to the Ducks and began treating them as a part of the school.  Some of the Varsity players had even backed off a little, mostly at the encouragement of Scooter.  Most of the Ducks couldn't figure out if it was because he was actually a nice guy, because he was dating Julie, or both.  Both Riley and Cole still tried to hassle them, but with very few people left to back them up, there wasn't much they could do.  Ken had actually been able to eat his lunch in relative peace since the Freshman/Varsity game.

    Even though school was much more bearable and he was able to play hockey with his best friends, Ken still wasn't sure he completely liked Eden Hall.  The food was terrible and the dorms were the tiniest he'd ever seen.  Ken had lucked out so far, he'd been paired with Luis for their first semester there; despite his slightly annoying habit of chasing girls, and somehow always being able to get them, he was a good guy and a pretty decent roommate.  But when Portman moved in to the dorms after rejoining the Ducks, all hell broke lose in the dorm.  Portman had driven his new roommate, a quiet kid named Brian, completely crazy with his loud music, overbearing demeanor and erratic behavior.  Rumor had it the poor kid had pulled out of Eden Hall and was spending time at a mental hospital, recovering from the traumatic experience.  And after Luis and Ken got into trouble for trying to scale the outside of the dormitory building up to the girls floor, the housing department had had enough and decided to issue new dorm assignments for the spring semester.  Ken couldn't believe it; he hadn't even been doing anything.  All he had been doing was sitting on the window sill of his room, holding the rope he'd tied around two beds and a closet door, so if Luis fell he wouldn't be turned into a sidewalk pizza…he's just have been snapped in half by the rope around his middle.

    So consequently, Ken had no idea who his roommate would be for the rest of the year.  He hoped it wouldn't be someone too terrible; it would be great if it was a Duck.  He would just have to wait and see.  _It won't be long now_, Ken thought, bracing himself for the landing.  _Another hour and I'll be back at school._

    After getting off the plane, Ken quickly found the luggage claim and with some difficulty, managed to haul his suitcase and hockey bag off the carousel.  Lugging his stuff, he found the ground transportation office.  A van from the airport was supposed to be taking him to Eden Hall.

    An attendant directed him to the correct van.  Ken loaded his suitcase and bag into the luggage compartment in the back and boarded the van, which left five minutes later.

    Ken read for most of the forty-minute ride to Eden Hall, finishing _1984_.  He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his seat; all his holiday work was finished.  He wouldn't have to worry about it until Monday, a whole day away.  Tomorrow he could relax and catch up with his friends.  Even though hockey season was over, Charlie would probably try to organize some sort of practice or something.  Not that many of them cared; Charlie's off-season practices usually consisted of goofing off in one way or another.  

    Pulling onto the Eden Hall campus, the van dropped Ken off in front of his dorm.  He hauled his luggage inside to the front desk and got the key to his new room.  "If you left anything in your old room, it'll have been moved to your new one." The assistant behind the desk told him.  

    Ken nodded and checked the number on his key.  360.  He was on the third floor.  He sighed at the thought of lugging his hockey bag up and down the stairs every day, but at least he was on the top floor.  He and Luis had lived on the first floor last semester and had to deal with the noisy people above them.  Ken's theory was they were extremely clumsy football players; Luis had bet they were in the marching band.  Either way, Ken was happy not to have to deal with that anymore.  

    With a great deal of effort Ken finally got himself and his bags to the third floor.  _You'd think a school as loaded as Eden Hall would at least have the money to put some elevators in the dorms_, Ken thought.  Dragging his stuff down the hall, he located room 360 and, to his surprise, found the door open.  He was even more surprised when he saw who was occupying the right side of the room.

    "Adam?"

    Adam Banks was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading a book.  Hearing his name, he looked up and smiled.

    "Hey Ken.  You're in here too?"

    Ken nodded, confused.  "What are you doing here?"

    Adam half grimaced, half smiled.  "I got fed up of all the parental crap, so I convinced them to let me move in to the dorms.  I told them it would give me more time to spend on schoolwork and hockey, but I really just had to get out of that house."

    Ken nodded in understanding.  All the Ducks had been to Adam's house at one time or another, and every single one found it uncomfortable.  It was clear that Adam's parents were used to entertaining dinner guests, not twelve overly enthusiastic, and sometimes very immature, teenagers.  Ken had always wondered how Adam could stand to live there and never asked questions when Adam made up excuses to stay on campus after school.  Adam would be much better off in the dorms.

    Ken pitched his hockey bag and backpack onto his bed, ready to unpack and get some sleep.  

    "You want some help?" Adam asked, setting his book down on the table next to his bed.

    "Nah," Kenny replied, he didn't have much stuff to unpack.  "How was your break?" he asked, pulling some clothes from his bag.

    "Pretty lame." Adam answered from his bed.  "Christmas wasn't terrible; I got hockey stuff from my parents, as usual, but my brother and sister-in-law sent me some movies." Adam pointed to his desk where a small TV/VCR sat next to a pile of movies.  "How was your break?"

    "It was pretty good." Ken replied, pulling a pile of stuff from his bag.  He pushed his hockey skates to a corner on his bed and separated several sweatshirts from the pile.  "Didn't do a whole lot, just spent some time with my parents and – ooh…" Ken stopped short as he came across a large box.

    "What's that?" Asked Adam as he hopped up and joined Ken standing by his bed.  Ken sighed as he opened the box.  He hadn't even meant to pack it, but apparently he had forgotten about it.  It must have been in the pile of stuff he'd shoved into his bag in his haste this morning.

    Adam had pulled out the newspaper and magazine clipping and the framed photograph, seen the skates sitting in the box, and was now looking questioningly at Ken.

    Ken sighed again and sat down on his bed.  "They're a present from my grandfather in China.  He was my first skating coach and apparently took it really hard when I quit figure skating.  My mom told me he's been sending me skates the past three Christmases since I've quit.  I didn't even know about them until I opened this box.  I accidentally threw the box into my bag when I was packing this morning."

    Adam nodded.  "Is this your grandfather?" he asked, pointing to the picture.

    Ken nodded.  "That was after my first skating competition."

    "You look so young." Adam laughed.

    "I was." Ken agreed.  "I wasn't even four yet."

    Adam looked at him, shocked.  "You were only three?!?"

    "I was a month away from my fourth birthday.  I had already been skating for a year and a half." Ken replied simply.  Growing up, he had known several kids who had started skating as early as he had; it wasn't a rarity in figure skating.

    "Can I ask you something?" Adam asked, still looking at the photograph.

    Ken nodded, though dreading what was coming.

    "Why'd you quit?"

    Ken hesitated, not sure where to start, or how much of the story he wanted to share.

    "It wasn't just to join Team USA, was it?" Adam continued questioning.  "I mean, you were an Olympic figure skater.  Why'd you give all that up?  I mean, we all love having you on the team; you're a great hockey player, but…it always sounds like you loved figure skating…" Adam trailed off, smiling nervously at Ken, as if hoping he hadn't said too much or hit a nerve.

    Ken took a deep breath, still deciding what to say.  "I was disappointed with how I skated at the Olympics; I had already started questioning whether I should spend the rest of my life figure skating.  Then I injured my ankle during my long program and had to take some time off after the Olympics, so I missed the World Championships.  At that point, I had pretty much made my decision, and then that crazy Tibbles guy showed up at our door, hockey gear in hand and I though 'What the hell, I'll give it a shot.'" Ken shrugged, signifying the end of the story.

    Adam nodded, apparently satisfied with Ken's answer and returned the framed picture to the box.  "It's just too bad we never got to see you skate," Adam said with a grin and he hopped back onto his bed.  "Except for that crazy jump thing at the Games…"

    Ken shook his head at the memory and heaved the rest of his clothes onto the floor of his closet.  He shoved his hockey pads and skates and the skate box back into his equipment bag, tossed it to the floor, and placed the framed photo on his still empty bedside table.  He'd do the rest of his unpacking tomorrow.  Now, he just wanted some sleep.


	3. Back On the Ice

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Ok, I finally decided exactly which way this story is gonna go.  The next two chapters may seem a little slow or a little pointless, but I'm setting up details and stuff like that.  Then things will start to get interesting, so hang on.

And chocolate chip cookies to all who reviewed!  You guys rock!  And thanks to Flat*Out*Crazy, I will never be able to eat chocolate chip cookies without thinking of the Ducks…not that that's a bad thing…!  Yummy…

And I'm always interested in hearing what you guys think of this.  If you like it, tell me!  If you hate, great!, tell me why!  And if you don't care either way, tell me your favorite cookie!  Mine's butterscotch chip…mmm….ok, moving on.

    Ken rolled over in his bed and squinted at the tiny numbers on Adam's glowing alarm clock.  4:38 am.  Ken groaned.  So much for getting any sleep; he had been tossing and turning restlessly all night, never dozing for more than half an hour.  He glared momentarily at his sleeping roommate, jealous of his closed eyes and rhythmic breathing.  He sighed and rolled noiselessly out of bed.  He felt his way to his closet and removed a hooded sweatshirt from the mess.  He pulled it on over his t-shirt and sweatpants and felt around for a pair of socks and his tennis shoes.  After pulling these on, he grabbed his hockey bag and keys and left his room, shutting the door quietly behind him.  

    Ken tiptoed through the hallway, down the flights of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory.  As he hurried toward the Eden Hall ice rink, the old snow crunched under his feet and his breath fogged in front of him.  Reaching the arena, he passed the front doors and hurried around to the back entrance, which could be opened either by key or by a pass code punched into a keypad by the back door.  Orion had given the Ducks the pass code to the door after he had run late to one of their early morning practices and found them waiting outside the arena doors, shivering in the cold as he ran up, forty five minutes late.  

    Ken now punched in the pass code and opened the door and locked it behind him.  He then carefully made his way towards the control room of the rink and turned on the lights and the heat for the seating area of the arena and the refrigeration unit that kept the ice itself cold.

    Ken smiled to himself as he reached the ice.  He sat on one of the first rows of bleachers in the stands and pulled on his hockey skates.  Quickly tying his skates and shoving his shoes into his bag, Ken opened the door to the ice and stepped out.  

    Breathing deeply, Ken began stroking around the perimeter of the foggy rink, slowly building speed.  He loved the smell of the ice.  He began a series of crossovers, crossing one foot first, than the other, shifting his weight back and forth on his edges, adjusting himself to his newly sharpened blades.  It felt so good to be back on the ice again; Ken hadn't been able to skate since his last day of school before the winter break.  Now Ken felt as though he could skate all day, just feeling the speed and the power and the icy wind in his face.  

    Things now seemed as though they hadn't changed; Ken always turned to skating when he couldn't concentrate or couldn't sleep or when he just couldn't take anymore of life.  Even when he was younger, if he'd had a bad day at school or if he'd gotten teased or forgotten his homework, every time he stepped on the ice, he could leave all of that behind him.  Now he relied on it even more at Eden Hall.  Throughout the last semester, through those first horrible weeks, the prank war, the scholarship hearing, and the JV/Varsity game, Orion had found Ken on the ice at the most random times, 11 at night or 5 in the morning or even during his lunch time, practicing shooting or puck handling or even just doing laps around the rink.  

    He slowly progressed to faster speeds, turning backwards and forwards and backwards again.  He raced down the ice, chasing or defending against an imaginary opponent, losing himself in the ice and fog, occasionally slowing down enough to catch his breath, then putting on another burst of speed.  

    After putting himself through numerous plays against his invisible opponent, Ken skated over to the door to go fill up his empty water bottle and was surprised to find Adam sitting on a bench, lacing up his skates.

    "You mind sharing the ice?" He asked, pulling on a jacket.  " I woke up and you were gone, so I figured you were here."

    "Why not." Ken glanced at the clock at the end of the rink.  It read 6:45.  He had been skating for nearly two hours.  Ken walked over to the water fountain, filled up his bottle and returned to the rink.  Adam skidded to a stop by the door as Ken stepped back onto the ice.

    "You wanna play some one-on-one?" Adam asked.

    Ken nodded and the boys pulled two hockey nets onto the ice from the door near the Zamboni.  Ken grabbed his stick and a puck and skated to center ice, feeling a bit anxious.  Ken had found out in their first practice as Team USA that he could out skate everyone on the team.  Some players, like Goldberg and Portman, made it easy for him; it was obvious that skating wasn't their best skill.  But Adam was probably one of the hardest; he'd been playing hockey for so long and whoever had taught him, had taught him well.  Though Ken constantly worked on his puck handling, he relied mostly on his skill as a skater to get him through games, usually letting other players do the scoring.  He wasn't sure how he'd fair against Adam, easily the best player on the Ducks.

_    Not bad,_ Ken told himself fifteen minutes later, the game still scoreless.  As expected, Adam was dominating the game, but Ken's skating skills made it difficult for Adam to get a decent shot off.  He faced off against Adam, who shot the puck around him and flew down the ice, Ken close behind.  Coming up alongside Adam, Ken tried to snatch the puck away from him but ended up tripping Adam with his stick.  Adam fell to the side and shot his stick out, tripping Ken, who also went down.  They lay on the ice for several minutes, breathing hard and laughing.

    "Sorry, man." Ken told Adam.

    "It happens." Adam told him, pulling himself off the ice and offering Ken a hand.  "Your puck handling is getting a lot better."

    Smiling at the compliment, Ken skated over to the bench and sat down.  He had been skating hard for over two hours and was starting to feel it.  He watched Adam race up and down the ice with the puck, dodging imaginary opponents.  After half an hour, Adam joined Ken on the bench, breathing hard.  

    "Got anything planned for today?" He asked Ken, who was untying his skates.

    "Unpacking is about it." Ken replied.  "Charlie'll probably have us practicing or something."

    "Don't count on it." Adam replied, smirking.  "He'll probably spend the whole day trying to get Linda to talk to him."

    "Again?" asked Ken, rolling his eyes.  That couple had more drama in their relationship than Connie and Guy.  "What happened this time?"

    "Something about a Christmas present." Adam said offhandedly.  "I didn't bother listening to the whole story."

    As Adam predicted, they didn't hear from Charlie and the day ended up being fairly uneventful.  Ken unpacked the rest of his stuff and soon his wall matched Adam's, covered nearly floor to ceiling with hockey posters.  Julie came to visit them, trying to get away from her new roommate, some crazy girl named Leiah.  They found Luis and Portman in a room down the hall, across from none other than Portman's old roommate, Brian.  Portman kept himself entertained for a good part of the day by chucking stuff against the poor kid's door.  _Even though the kid wasn't in a mental hospital now, he's gonna need to be by the end of the year_, thought Ken, feeling a bit bad for him.

    After a visit from Guy, Fulton, Averman and Goldberg, who confirmed that Charlie had been on the phone for almost seven hours and was now considered a lost cause, the Ducks decided to go out to dinner and catch up on all their winter break stories.  Despite the cold, they skated over to the diner and were joined by Connie and Charlie, who, it seemed, had finally unglued himself from the phone.  


	4. Back To School

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

LA!   I finally got my new computer (yay!!!) and finally got it hooked up to the Internet, so I'll be able to actually update occasionally now!  However, school starts Monday, so I've got to cut back my fanfiction time in favor of o-chem and cell biology (ick!!!)…but I'll keep working hard on my story, so I'll try to keep updating it once a week.  And, since I decided where to take this, I've got to note a few important things…one, I don't know how high school hockey works since my school was never cool enough to have a hockey team, but in this story, the hockey season goes from September (beginning of school) to October or November, depending on if you make the State playoffs.  And two, I'm going to use the years the movies were released as basis for this; so the Junior Goodwill Games were in the summer of 1994, so Ken competed at the '94 Games and they all started high school in '96.  Any questions?  Ok.

Oh, and in case anyone's interested, Sky's snowboarding "incident"…true story.  Didn't happen to me, but to one of my buddies…still, not pretty.

And big thanks and lots of cookies to percussion, Cards and KShyne99 for reviewing!  It really means a lot to me…thanks kids!!!

And I would love to know what you guys think of this.  If you like it, tell me!  If you hate, great!, tell me why!  And if you don't care either way, tell me your favorite cookie!  Mine's butterscotch chip…mmm….ok, moving on.

    The next morning, Ken groaned as the alarm went off at 6:30.  He wasn't ready for school to start again.  Only after a shower and a chocolate donut did Ken feel somewhat ready to start the day.  However, the day had somehow started without him and Ken hoped he hadn't forgotten anything in his dorm.  He checked his backpack; luckily he had packed some stuff the night before.  He had his binder, a few schoolbooks, pens, and his class schedule; that should get him through the day.  

    "See you guys at lunch." Charlie called to everyone as the Ducks all headed in different directions, it seemed as though Charlie had recovered from his trauma yesterday.

    Ken cut through the crowded halls to his locker to stash most of his books, there was no way he could carry those around all day.  Glancing at his schedule, he kept his English novels and his geometry book in his bag; those were his first two classes.  

    He quickly found his English classroom and walked into an empty room; he was early.  He took a seat in the second row and pulled out the geometry homework that had been assigned over break.  He ran through it quickly, checking each problem as other students began to filter into the room.  

    "Hey, Ken, what's up?" Guy asked as he took the seat on the left of Ken's.

    "Not much." Ken responded, glancing up from his work. 

    Ken also heard Averman and Adam's voices behind him and had just waved a hello to his roommate when he heard Guy muttering colorfully under his breath and knew that Connie had entered the room.  Ken looked back and saw Connie and Julie standing by the door, looking around the room.

    "Hey guys." Julie smiled at the group and led Connie over.  Julie took the desk to Ken's right and Connie took the one behind it, refusing to look at Guy.  Julie and Connie started a conversation with a girl sitting to their right and Ken heard Adam greet another friend of his. 

    Ken had just finished checking his math work when a small Asian girl took the seat in front of him and turned around.  

    "Hey Kenny." She grinned at him.  "What's up?"

    "Hey Sky," Ken greeted her.  Being the only two students of Asian descent at Eden Hall, Ken and Sky had become fast friends at the beginning of their freshman year.  Sky's family lived in St. Paul, but she was originally from Colorado.  Her real name was Rochelle, but everyone, including her parents called her Sky, and she refused to tell Ken where the name came from.  "It's a very long, embarrassing story." was all she would tell him.

    "Not much.  What's up with you?"

    "Other than this," she said, pointing to her leg, "not much."

    Ken leaned over his desk and saw a cast on her left leg and a pair of crutches sitting against her desk.

    "What happened to you?" he asked her.

    "Snowboarding." Sky sighed and shook her head.

    "What?" Ken asked.  He hadn't known her very long, but he knew Sky was an awesome snowboarder.  It wasn't like her to get hurt.

    "That's the less embarrassing version." She told him.  "The true story is that my brother and I were goofing off on the chair lift up the mountain.  He pushed me a little to far, I fell thirty feet and…" she gestured to her cast.  "It wasn't pretty."

    "Wow.  Are you okay?" Ken asked.

    "Yeah, aside from being way embarrassed, still ready to kill my brother, and stuck in this thing till February."  Sky glared at the cast momentarily.   "So how was your break?" she asked.

    "Pretty uneventful compared to yours." Ken told her grinning.

    Suddenly a sharp "Ahem" startled them and Sky turned around.  Ken looked to the front of the classroom and found an older lady with grey hair standing there.

    "Good morning." She began formally.  "My name is Mrs. Willis and this is Honors Freshman English."

    Out of the corner of his eye, Ken saw Connie raise a hand and say, "But I didn't-"

    "I know none of you signed up for an Honors course." Mrs. Willis interrupted.  "You were placed in this class based on your grades in your first semester freshman English course, along with your attitude and class participation.  This is how students are chosen for Advanced Placement classes here at Eden Hall.  Those of you that are in this course will continue on the AP track for English during your sophomore, junior and senior years.  You will find the rest of your classes will follow the same plan."

    "Now, if there are no other questions, take out your copies of _To Kill A Mockingbird_, which you all should have finished over the break.  We will begin each class with a discussion of what you were assigned to read."

    Ken sighed as he pulled out his book.  She certainly was…focused.  But at any rate, she was better than Mrs. Madigan, and her infamous "Anytime-time-I-feel-like-it-there'll-be-a-surprise-quiz-or-exam" speech.

    Ken sighed as he took a plate of something that vaguely resembled macaroni from the cafeteria lunch line.  _Gross_.  It was almost enough to make him start living on sandwiches again.  He pushed his tray further and took an apple; _at least that was edible_.  He turned it over and found a squishy brown spot the size of his palm.  _Maybe not_…  He put the apple back and took an orange.

    Ken took a seat at the Ducks table in between Guy and Dwayne.  

    "So how's your first day treatin' ya?" Dwayne asked Ken.  Ken sighed again.  

    "Not terrible." He said, not wanting to complain much.  It was going to be a long semester.  Besides Engish, he had also been placed in Honors Geometry, History, and Earth Science; at least he had those classes with some Ducks.  Averman, Adam, Guy, Julie and Connie had also been placed in those classes.

    "It's gonna be a long semester." Averman, sitting across the table from Ken, echoed his thoughts.  

    "Yeah," Guy agreed.  "I'm not so sure about this whole Honors thing.  Shouldn't we at least be able to chose if we get stuck with this stuff?"

    "This is a 'prep' school, Guy." Julie told him.  "They're preparing us for college, we should be taking as many advanced classes as we can."

    Portman snorted and nearly chocked on his can of soda at that remark.  Returning a dirty look from Julie, Portman turned back to Fulton and Goldberg, who were laughing at something going on in the corner of the cafeteria.

    Ken turned to see what they were laughing at and saw Charlie and Linda in the middle of what looked like a very heated conversation.

    "What now?" Russ asked, voicing the entire table's opinion.

    "Something about how he didn't get into any Honors classes with her." Connie told them.  "She probably thinks he did that so he wouldn't have to spend time with her or something.  How lame.  She shouldn't pick on him for little things like that."

    This time it was Guy's turn to snort, which set Ken and Adam off laughing.  Connie stood up, knocked over her soda can, glared at the guys who were now laughing harder, took her tray and stormed out of the cafeteria.  Guy, who was the first to stop laughing, shrugged, and started talking to Ken, Averman, Julie and Adam about the massive pile of homework they had already been assigned.

    By 8:30 that night, Ken was exhausted.  Despite the fact that it was the off-season, Orion had put the Ducks through a grueling two-hour practice after school.  Now Ken sat on the floor of the dormitory common room, in a circle with Connie, Julie, Adam, Averman, Guy, Sky, and Adam's friend Tony, where the group had been slowly working their way through their homework for the past four hours.  

    "So the only thing we have to do for history is read _The Inheritors_?" Sky asked, frowning at her student planner.

    "Only?" Averman exclaimed.  "Have you seen that thing?  It's the size of friggin' _War and Peace_!"

    "Be thankful it's not _War and Peace_." Julie cut in.

    "_War and Peace_ might be more interesting.  Have you guys looked at this thing yet?" Guy asked and Connie opened her mouth to respond.

    "Okay." Adam interrupted, before a fight could break out.  "I think we've had enough for tonight.  We got everything done for tomorrow and yes, Sky, we won't have any work for history until we finish _The Inheritors_."

    Everyone nodded and began packing up their stuff.  Ken helped Sky up and handed her the crutches.  "See you guys tomorrow." He yawned, waving to no one in particular.

    After climbing the three flights of stairs that never seemed to end, changing in to his pj's, and brushing his teeth, Ken was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	5. Haunted

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

That's to all you guys/girls who reviewed!  Yay for y'all!  And yeah…school sucks.  O-chem lab is gonna kick my ass…it's not gonna be pretty.  But at least I have the Ducks to make me feel better…

Mwahahahahaha!!!  This is my favorite chapter so far!  So I hope you guys like it!  I did some major writing after my crappy first days at school, so I feel better now.  But I'll feel even more better if you hit the little review button…you know you want to!  And yeah, I know "even more better" is terrible English, but eh…don't care right now!

And since it seems like the same people reading this read "All I'm Losing Is Me", I'm gonna put a tiny note in here for now: thanks for the great reviews!  I'd like to continue it, but it may not be that easy.  I can only write angsty stuff when I'm in my I-hate-the-world-and-my-life-sucks mood, which I'm not in too often.  But, seeing as I'm going to fail my organic chemistry lab, I may be in that mood soon, so if I am, I promise I'll work on it.  Ok…

And I'm always interested in hearing what you guys think of this.  If you like it, tell me!  If you hate, great!, tell me why!  And if you don't care either way, tell me your favorite cookie!  Mine's butterscotch chip…mmm….ok, moving on.

    From the moment twelve-year-old Kenny Wu walked into the Olympic Amphitheatre in Hamar, Norway, he was in awe of everything.  The arena only sat 6,000 spectators, but it seemed much, much bigger.  The overhead lights were blinding white, setting off the glare of the ice.  Everything seemed so much bigger and brighter here than back home, even than in Joe Louis Arena in Detroit when the 1994 U.S. National Championships had been held.

    Kenny coach, Sonja Olsen, placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the ice, out the doors and into the practice rink next door, Storhamar Ice Rink.  Kenny's feelings of astonishment and trepidation intensified as he drew closer to the ice, watching the skaters.  

    "That's Elvis Stojko." Sonja pointed out.  "And Alexei Urmanov, and Viktor Petrenko." Kenny nodded, but he didn't need them pointed out; he had seen them all many times.  

    "You stay here." Sonja told him.  "I'll find out when your practice ice starts."  She left him and headed in the direction of a table labeled "Information" and Kenny's mother took her place.

    "How are you feeling?" she asked him.  "Okay?"

    Kenny nodded, though at the moment he was feeling anything but okay.  

    He couldn't take his eyes off the skaters on the ice.  He watched Viktor Petrenko lift into a triple Axel – triple toe-loop combination; the very combination that had helped him win the last Olympics.  Seconds later, Elvis Stojko attempted a quadruple toe-loop jump…and landed it.  All the skaters out there looked so polished and professional and so…old.  

    Kenny forced himself to tear his eyes away from the rink and caught a glimpse of his reflection a window.  He grimaced at what he saw; a 5 foot nothing, skinny Asian kid who looked like he had wandered in to get an autograph.  He didn't look like he belonged out there.  He breathed deeply to fight off the feeling of nausea as Sonja walked toward him.

    "Your practice ice starts in half an hour.  Let's go warm up." She told him in her brusque, businesslike manner.  Kenny's mother gave him a quick hug and walked in the direction of the stands to watch.  His bag with his skates in it still over his shoulder, Kenny followed his coach to an empty spot in the corner of the rink, when he began a series of stretches and warm-ups.  He quickly progressed to jumping off ice, starting with single revolutions, then doubles, and then triples, all under the watchful eyes of his coach.

    As he pulled his skates on, Ken couldn't decide whether warming up had made him feel better or worse.  The nausea had abated slightly, but facing the prospect of skating on the same ice as the older skaters made Ken's legs feel like Jell-o.  

    He stood at the edge of the rink, watching the Zamboni make its final lap around the rink.  As it exited the ice, a rink monitor opened the door in the boards to the ice and Kenny, followed by five other skaters, stepped onto the ice.  He hesitated for a moment by the boards, watching four other skaters race around the rink and begin working on individual elements of their programs.  

    A shadow fell over Kenny and he looked up to see the other U.S. skater, Brian Boitano.  "Remember to breathe, buddy." He said, clapping a hand on Kenny's shoulder.  "You'll be fine."  With that, he took off around the rink.

    Kenny nodded, mostly to himself, and began to circle the perimeter of the rink, slowly building speed.  At the opposite end, he turned and began to skate backwards down the ice.  Taking a few deep breaths, Kenny readied himself to work and began jumping as he had off the ice, starting with singles and working his way through doubles and triples.  He quickly ran through some spins and footwork elements and skated over to the barrier where Sonja was watching.

    "Excellent." Sonja told him.  "Everything looks really solid, but make sure you take your time.  You're rushing just a bit."  Kenny nodded and took a sip from his water bottle.

    "Now I've turned your music in to be played; you'll be up after Brian finishes his program.  We're just going to concentrate on your short program today, since you'll be performing it in three days.  Your freeskate is fine, we'll run through it a couple times later in the week and make sure everything is polished." Sonja continued.

    Kenny nodded and after Brian Boitano's music ended, took his place at the far end of the rink and waited for his music to begin.  Music from the soundtrack to "The Natural" quickly filled the small arena; Sonja had chosen the music after a skating critic had dubbed Kenny "a natural" at last year's National Championships.  Kenny pushed off and began to complete the eight required elements for the short program; a triple Lutz – triple toe-loop jump combination, a sit-change-sit spin, a footwork sequence, footwork into a triple flip, a spin combination, a double Axel, another footwork sequence, and finally a death-drop spin.  

    As he finished his program, Kenny heard cheering from the bleachers and turned to see his mother, who had now been joined by Kenny's father and grandfather, cheering and waving wildly at him.  Kenny smiled and waved back and returned to where Sonja was standing.

    "Very good." She said, handing him his water bottle.  "Jumps were excellent, as usual, spins were very good, but you lost a bit of speed on the last footwork sequence.  Try it again from the Axel."

    Kenny nodded and skated around the rink, avoiding Steven Cousins who was now running through his program.  After building up speed, Kenny hit the double Axel and began the footwork sequence again, reminding himself to push all the way through it to maintain his speed.  

    "Much better." Sonja approved.  Ken smiled and then frowned as he noticed the other skaters getting off the ice.  "Don't worry," Sonja told him as she saw his face.  "Starting tomorrow, we'll have more practice time."  Kenny nodded and followed the other skaters off the ice.

    "Just remember to breathe, and you'll be fine.  Skate like you did two nights again and in practice and you'll be great." Sonja told him as he left the ice from his six-minute warm-up.  Kenny could barely hear her, with the roar of the crowd in the arena and his emotions reeling.  

    Two nights ago Kenny had skated the best short program of his life.  To top that off, his scores had put him in forth place, in serious contention for a medal.  His face had been plastered all over the news since then, calling him the USA's only hope for a medal in the event; Brian Boitano had placed eighth in the short program.  

    Standing in the tunnel that lead from the backstage area to the ice, Kenny noticed it was getting harder and harder for him to breathe properly.  He felt like the cameras and the crowed were watching him already, though he had yet to take the ice.  He had tried to ignore everything going on around him, especially how the other skaters were doing, but it was growing increasingly difficult as murmurs and speculation ran through the workers backstage, as well as those who had already skated.  Kenny knew that Viktor Petrenko, who had placed ninth in the short program, had skated a great program and was leading in the standings now.  Brian Boitano had also skated well and was in third place so far, behind Kurt Browning.

    Now the top six competitors had finished their warm-up and the first skater, Oleg Tataurov, who was in fifth after the short, was skating his long program.  Philippe Candeloro, who was in third, would skate second followed by Elvis Stojko.  Kenny was to skate fourth, followed by Alexei Urmanov, and Eric Millot would skate last.  Kenny wasn't thrilled with having to skate after Elvis, who was in second; it was bad enough being in the top six skaters without a triple Axel, but Elvis had been nailing quadruple jumps in practice.  Kenny tried not to watch the other skaters, but after the short program, he couldn't help it.  But now, he wished he hadn't.  Most of the top skaters were consistently landing triple Axels; which Kenny had only tried on the harness back home.  He tried to convince Sonja that he should work on them here and put on in his long program, but Sonja had vetoed the idea immediately.  Still, that hadn't stopped Kenny from trying them in his hotel room.  He had landed several pretty well, but three and a half rotations was not an easy thing to do.

    The reaction from the crowd told him that Oleg hadn't skated his best.  Kenny's heart lifted a bit; it sounded as if he was out of medal contention.  _One down, four to go_, Kenny thought to himself and began pacing to keep his legs from getting stiff.  The noise from the crowed startled him as Philippe completed his program; Philippe was always a crowd favorite so it was difficult to tell if he skated well or if the crowd just loved him.

    Kenny's heart began to race as he heard the music for Elvis's program start.  "Come on, it's time." Sonja told him, putting a hand on his shoulder.  They walked out from the tunnel into the main part of the Olympic Amphitheatre and Kenny was once again in awe.  6,000 seemed like a lot more seats when there were people sitting in them.  And there was press everywhere, with cameras and tape recorders and notebooks and tripods.  And all eyes were on the skater on the ice.

    Kenny turned away to keep from watching but it didn't help.  The crowd started to applaud as Elvis brought his program to an end and the roar filled the entire arena.  The cheering continued as Elvis stepped off the ice and sat down with his coach to receive his marks.

    Kenny stepped onto the ice and skated around a bit in a vain effort to keep his legs and hands from shaking.  He took some deep breaths and tried to calm himself down.  _You've waited years for this_, Kenny told himself.  _This is everything you've worked for.  And you've done this program flawlessly a hundred times.  There's no reason why you can't do it now._

    But a nagging feeling inside him told Kenny that wasn't enough.  As much as he tried to ignore it, he knew it was true.  He could skate the program of his life and still someone else would win, because they had a triple Axel or a quad.  It seemed so unfair.

    "And now," A voice echoed through the arena and Kenny readied himself, knowing what he had to do.  "Representing the United States of America, please welcome Kenny Wu!"

    A huge roar swept through the crowd as Kenny skated to center ice and took his opening pose.  Strains from a piece by Shostakovich filled the building, opening his four and a half minute program.  


	6. Going Crazy

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

And I'm always interested in hearing what you guys think of this.  If you like it, tell me!  If you hate, great!, tell me why!  Please…?

    Ken started out of his dream, awoken by…he wasn't sure.  He sat up and squeezed his head between his hands, as if trying to wring the memories from it.  He'd been at school for just over two weeks now and that dream, those memories, had haunted him for a week and a half of it.  He just couldn't seem to shake it.  The dream always started the same, but each time, it continued further and further.  Tonight, Ken was almost glad he'd woken when he did, to keep from having to relive that…

    He checked the clock – 5:08 am – and got out of bed.  He grabbed some street clothes to change into for school and pulled his shoes on.  Grabbing his keys and backpack, he slipped silently out of the room and down the stairs.  Passing through the front doors, he began the walk to the ice rink that had become his morning ritual, more out of the need for a break from everything, especially his dreams, rather than practice.

    Ken entered the arena through the back door, turned on the lights and heat and went to the locker room where all his hockey stuff was now.  Ken dumped his street clothes on the bench and reached inside his locker for his skates.  He dug further for a sweatshirt and uncovered the skate box he had stashed at the bottom of his locker.  He sat down and stared at it for several minutes, his mind racing so fast he could barely put together a coherent thought.

    He hadn't been on a pair of figure skates in years, not since joining the Ducks.  Part of him still wondered if he still had it; if he could still skate like he used to.  That was a dumb thought actually, of course he wouldn't be able to skate like he used to, but part of him wanted to see if he could still jump or spin or do anything at all.  And part of him wondered why he was opening such a big can of worms…

    Ken sighed and opened the box.  He picked up one of the skates and turned it over in his hands, feeling the stiff leather, running his hands over the sharp blades.

    "You're crazy." He told himself out loud.  "I don't know what you think you're doing…"  He sighed again, sat down and began putting the skate on.  He laced it up and pulled the other one out, still wondering exactly what he was doing.  Standing up, he bent his knees a few times to crease the leather and ease the stiffness.  

    Walking out of the locker room and down to the ice, he pulled the door open and stepped hesitantly onto the ice.  He stood there for a moment, shifting his weight back and forth, trying to get used to the feeling.  He hardly remembered what being on figure skates was like; he could lean further forward and backward without slipping off the blade, but…

    He stopped stalling, took a deep breath and pushed off.  He heard his toepick take a small piece out of the ice as he pushed and he reminded himself to push with the ball of his foot.  He continued around the rink, slowly, still getting a feel for the stiff skates.  Most skaters generally hated breaking in new skates and having to deal with blisters and sores, but Ken never had those problems; he liked the feeling of newer skates better because they offered more support in the ankle and he could get more speed and power.  

    Suddenly he leaned to far forward, caught the front of his skate and crashed to ice, hitting his knees and right elbow.  "Toepick…" he muttered to himself as he sat there for a moment, rubbing the sting out of his elbow.

    He picked himself up and began again, taking it slowly until he felt more comfortable on the blades.  After several more laps around the ice, he began to feel better and picked up a little more speed and continuing on.  An hour and a half and several more trips later, Ken felt more comfortable on the figure skates and had even tried skating backward on them.  Since it was much harder to catch a toepick when you're going backward, Ken figured he'd have that down in no time.  However, he also forgot that the back end of the blade didn't curve as dramatically as hockey blades did, and managed to take some painful falls backwards.  But he eventually got the hang of that too and was finally ready to move on to something else.  

    However, it was also almost seven and class started at 7:30.  Ken returned to the locker room, quickly showered and changed and raced to the cafeteria for some breakfast.  He grabbed a bagel and an orange juice and grabbed a seat between Averman and Adam at the Ducks table.  

    "Skating again?" Adam asked him.  Ken nodded.

    "I've been having trouble sleeping in the mornings, so I figure I may as well get some practice in." He said.  Adam shook his head.

    "You're crazy," was all he said, before turning to Fulton, Portman and Charlie who were having some sort of discussion about cork.  Adam stared at them for a moment or two, then turned back to Ken.  "But, you're not quite as crazy as they are…" he said, shaking his head and laughing, Ken joining in.

    "So what do you think?" Adam asked Ken, glancing at Julie and Connie sitting across the table, each with their head buried in a geometry book.  "You ready for our first test?"

    Ken sighed.  "I hope so."  He had studied till about 10:30 last night before giving up in favor of sleep.  Not that it actually happened.  "I think I'll do alright." He said, praying he was right.

    After English class and the geometry test, Ken was more than ready to call it a day.  Unfortunately, he still had science, history, Latin and his computer class left.  Then, since it was Monday, the Ducks would have a two-hour practice with Orion, who, considering it was the off-season, was working them unusually hard.  After changing from their practice clothes, the on-campus Ducks, plus Connie, Averman and Guy, an hour to rummage around the cafeteria for something that resembled dinner, then, all the Honors kids were meeting for another study session.  Most of the Honors freshman found their new classes so demanding; they had to meet everyday in order to even have a prayer of keeping up.  So their original group had now expanded to include Tony's roommate Luke, Julie's roommate Leiah (despite Julie's many pleas not to let her join), and two other girls from their classes; Remmy and Meg, who were both friends with Connie and Julie.

    After an hour of geometry, half an hour of science and history each, the group had just begun English, which they were considering the most important right now, since they had an in class essay to write on Wednesday.  They had finished _To Kill A Mockingbird_ and had moved on to _1984_, but at the moment, Ken didn't care.  He was distracted, exhausted and sick of school.  And he wasn't the only one.  Sky was sitting next to him, leaning against the wall behind her, eyes half closed, looking very zoned out.  Averman was throwing tiny bits of paper at people with a bemused expression on his face.  Remmy, Meg, and Luke were discussing ways to interrupt history class tomorrow.  Ken had heard conversations like this before from Fulton and Portman, but this time, the motive was different.  They just wanted their teacher to slow down from his usual Mach 10 speed through the notes.  For the most part everyone was being fairly low key.

    Except Connie and Guy, who had been at each other's throats since lunch.  Whatever happened earlier in the day had obviously been intensified by classes, practice, homework, stress, _and probably having to be around each other the entire day as well_, Ken guessed.  Typically the Ducks just ignored them and didn't say anything, usually things blew over or were forgotten, but tonight they were being especially annoying, their argument going in circles.  Even the non-Ducks were starting to look murderous.

    "Enough already!" exploded Sky after Guy called Connie an "overzealous control freak" and she told him he was a "chauvinistic psycho."  "What is wrong with you guys?  I've never heard anyone act like this before!" she bellowed at them.  Ken stared at Sky.  Normally she was very laid back; he'd never seen her raise he voice at anyone.

    "Why don't you two just grow up and figure out your problems like semi-normal human beings!  I don't care if you aren't semi-normal!" she added as Guy opened his mouth to retort.  

    Silence settled over the group, everyone staring at either Sky, Connie or Guy.  Finally Ken found his voice.

    "Well, I don't think we're gonna get anything else done tonight.  I think it would be a good idea to go over the review questions for the book, but we can all do that on our own time.  If we want, we can spend some more time on this tomorrow night, but I think we'll all be okay for now."

    Everyone nodded and began packing up their stuff.  

    "My mom'll be here to drive us in half an hour." Averman told Connie and Guy, who were both very red and not looking at each other.  "Ken, I've got a question for you on Latin.  Can you help me out?"

    Ken nodded.  "My book is in my room, come on."  Ken, Averman and Adam were joined on the stairs by Guy, who looked like he'd eat live fire ants before sitting in the dorm lobby with Connie, who'd stayed to talk with Meg.

    "So what's your question?" Ken asked as he opened the door to the room.  He hopped on his bed and pulled his Latin book in front of him.

    "I actually don't have one." Averman grinned a bit.  "I just didn't want to wait in the lobby with them." He nodded in Guy's direction and shrugged.

    "Yeah, so what is going on with you guys?" Adam asked Guy, who also shrugged.

    "I dunno.  I thought we'd be okay after a while, at least be able to be in the same room without hating each other's guts, but apparently that was expecting too much.  And just in the last day or so, she's gotten ten times worse.  Crazy chick."

    Ken rolled his eyes, leaned back on his bed and listened to Adam, Guy and Averman talk.  While his life had never exactly been normal, he was glad it didn't have this much drama.


	7. The Truth

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Annie918 – thanks so much for the review; I'm thrilled you like it.  I was starting to get a little discouraged, I hadn't had reviews in a couple chapters.  I kept writing because that's what I do; but I was debating posting anymore.  So thanks for the great review.

This is a short chapter; I know.  But I've got the next one almost finished, so I'll try to post that within a couple days.

And I'm always interested in hearing what you guys think of this.  If you like it, tell me!  If you hate, great!, tell me why!  

    Ken awoke to Adam shaking him, calling his name.

    "Ken.  Ken.  Ken!" 

    "What?" he mumbled tiredly.

    "My alarm never went off."  Adam said frantically, pulling on a shoe with one hand and grabbing his backpack with the other.  "School starts in twenty minutes!"

    "Geez…" Ken mutter, pulling himself out of bed, surprised.  Last night was the first night in many he hadn't been haunted by that dream.  And he hadn't woken up early, unable to sleep.  Maybe he was finally getting over everything.  Maybe he could finally go back to being Ken the hockey player, instead of Ken the former figure skater in his mind.  Ken smiled to himself and got his butt in gear, realizing he only had eighteen minutes to get to class.

    After school that day, Ken and Averman were in Ken's room, working on a presentation for Latin; Adam was studying Spanish, and Guy, who like Averman was staying for their study session later, was working on his French homework.  It was actually quite amusing to hear them muttering three different languages.  None of them had really learned enough to carry on conversations, but they easily picked up insults and curses and found frequent uses for them.  

    Ken was arguing with Averman over the Latin word for cheese, when they heard a 'snap' behind them.

    "Son of a…" muttered Guy, holding the two remaining pieces of his pencil, which had split down the middle.

    "Whoa, Guy.  Got some pent up anger there, buddy?" Averman joked, staring at the pencil.  

    "What did you do?" Adam asked, trying to suppress a grin.  Guy shrugged and chucked one piece of the pencil into the trashcan by Adam's desk.

    "Got a pencil I can borrow?" He asked the room in general.

    "There's some in my top desk drawer." Ken answered.  "Just no more pencil abuse, alright?"  He laughed and ducked as the other piece of pencil came flying his way.  "And while you're there, can you toss me my eraser?" he added, frowning at the paper in front of him.  "Averman's been writing this down all wrong."

    "What?" Averman snatched the paper back and stared at it.  "No I haven't.  'Caseus' is cheese and 'haedus' is goat.  'Cheese comes from goats.'  What's wrong with that?"

    "Too many things." Ken muttered to himself.  "Hey Guy, my eraser?" He reminded impatiently.  No answer.  Ken turned around.

    Guy was sitting on Ken's desk chair, a small pile of papers in his hands.  He looked up from reading the top one and Ken realized they were the newspaper clippings he had taken from home.  The ones about the Olympics.  Ken sighed; he should have put those somewhere else; what was he thinking?  He had the nosiest friends in the world.

    "What's up Guy?" Adam asked from his spot on his bed.  Guy didn't answer, but looked at Ken questioningly.

    Ken sighed again and got to his feet.  He walked over to his desk and took the articles from Guy.  He leaned against the wall, reading and rereading the headline to the top article, _Olympic Skater Disappointed With Performance; Future In Jeopardy_.  

    "Ken?"

    Ken looked up and saw the three guys staring at him expectantly.  He sat down on his bed, wondering how to handle this.  He wasn't sure how they were going to take this.

    The problem wasn't his friends.  They were all great guys, and girls.  That wasn't the problem.  The problem was none of the Ducks understood losing.  Sure they had lost a couple games here and there in their six year existence, sure they'd gotten they're butts kicked by the Hawks and the Iceland team and the Varsity Warriors.  But somehow or another, whether it was meant to happen or not, the Ducks always came back and won it when it counted.  They didn't understand what it was like to lose horribly, to perform so terribly that you didn't even recognize that as yourself.  They didn't understand what it was like to embarrass yourself in front of thousands of people; to humiliate yourself, your country, your family, your coach, everyone connected with you.  They could never understand.

    "Ken?" Adam repeated, starting to look worried.

    "It's just like I told you, Adam." Ken waved the article around.  "I skated pretty badly and ended up hurting my ankle pretty badly as well.  So during my time off I decided my life needed something else besides 4 am practices and stressful competitions.  So I became a Duck.  It's ancient history." He ended, getting up and sticking the articles back on his desk.  He'd move them later.

    "But that article says you took tenth." Guy said.

    "So?" Ken asked, wondering what his point was.

    "I guess we always just assumed you had kicked butt at the Olympics…" Guy trailed off.

    "Well, you can't always win it all." Ken said, giving them a moment to think about that.  Then he took his seat on the floor, saying, "First off Averman, you've got that sentence saying cheese is _made in_ goats."


	8. Humiliation

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Annie918 – glad you liked it!  And thanks for all the encouragement; I promise I won't abandon this story.  I couldn't do it anyway, I'm too deeply involved.

Flat*Out*Crazy – Yeah.,.I dunno…cheese could be made in goats for all I know.  I don't even know if I got the Latin right…I speak French.

percussion – yeah, I liked the idea of them all muttering in different languages…my roommates and I do that on occasion.

And I love you three for reviewing!!!  You guys rock!

And if you're taking the time to read this, you rock too!  Drop me a line and let me know what you think…or just say hi!  I don't care; I just get really happy when I have emails in my inbox!  Who doesn't?!

Okay, I know I said I'd post this chapter a couple days after the last one…two weeks later…!  I decided I didn't like where it ended, so I wrote another chapter to go along with this one, since it's so short.  Plus, life has been crazy the last several weeks, and I've got a Cellular Biology exam and an organic chemistry exam both at the end of the week.  Augh.  So, of course, instead of spending time actually studying, I'm working on my fanfics!  Go me.

    The crowd roaring around him, Kenny Wu stood at center ice in the Olympic Amphitheatre.  Poised in his opening position, Kenny, despite his young age, understood the full weight of what he was about to do.  The opening notes echoed through the arena and Kenny took off down the ice, leaving all fears and doubt behind.  He completed his opening jump combination, a triple Lutz – triple toe-loop, flawlessly and the crowd cheered its approval.  He began the connecting moves down the ice to set up for his next jump, a double Axel.  Or –  _He__ could do it.  He had to do it_.  Kenny took a deep breath and jumped into a triple Axel.

    As he came down from the jump, he felt his right ankle twist painfully under him just before he fell.  A silence came over the crowd and Kenny got up, knowing he had to go on.  He pulled into a camel spin, his next element, and tried to calm himself and get his mind back in the program.  He set up for his next jump, a triple loop, but having lost his concentration on the Axel, opened his hip and fell on the landing.  Kenny made it through two more spins and some footwork before his next jump, a triple flip.  He went through the set up but felt his ankle give way right before the take off.  He hadn't even gotten off the ground.  Again Kenny pulled himself to his feet, knowing he couldn't stop.  He had to finish.

    He managed to pull off three more jumps in his program, a triple Salchow and two triple toe-loops, but the other jumps were too painful on his ankle.  The crowd applauded him for finishing, but Kenny barely heard them as he took his bows and skated off the ice.  Sonja helped him off the ice and over to the bench and Kenny began to unlace the skate on his injured foot.  A backstage attendant ran over with a pack of ice and Sonja began examining his ankle.  

    Kenny kept his head down, pretending to be occupied with the ice pack as his scores were announced.  He didn't even bother to listen; he knew his chances were gone.  He was furious with himself.  He had never skated that badly in his life; not even the time he'd had the stomach flu.  He'd just humiliated himself in front of 6,000 people, not to mention how many more watching on TV.  And he'd humiliated his coach and his family.  He looked up and found his family in the stands, his mother's face shining with tears, his father holding her, and his grandfather simply sitting, his face set, his expression unreadable.


	9. The Aftermath

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

    Ken jerked from his dream, sweat mixing with the tears pouring down his face.  Just when he thought he'd gotten over his dreams, his trouble sleeping; the dream came back and forced him through that horrible night.  

    Ken looked at his alarm clock; it was only 3:27, he'd only been asleep for just over four hours.  It was too early for him to go to the rink; he'd end up falling asleep in class, but he knew he would never get back to sleep right now; he couldn't face that dream again.  He leaned over to his desk and grabbed a flashlight from his desk, intending to read for a bit; maybe he'd doze off and get a little sleep before school started.  He turned the flashlight on, careful to keep the light low and away from Adam; not that he needed to worry, Adam was the soundest sleeper Ken had ever met.  He scanned his desk for the book he was reading, but only found a notebook, several pens, an empty soda can and the newspaper clippings he had left there from earlier.  

    Picking up the top one bearing the headline, _Olympic Skater Disappointed With Performance; Future In Jeopardy_, and began to read the article.

    _After a solid performance in the Technical Program stage of the Men's figure skating competition; twelve year old Kenny Wu was the United States' only hope for a medal in the event.  Wu had been skating consistently all week in practice and was seemingly oblivious to all the attention, publicity, and the 6,000 spectators that crowded into the Olympic Amphitheatre Saturday night, anxiously waiting for the next Olympic medalists to be determined._

_    Skating to a piece by Dmitri Shostakovich, Wu skated the opening minute of his free skate with the consistency he had displayed all week, completing a triple Lutz – triple toe loop combination.  But after a fall on an over-rotated double Axel, Wu had difficultly finding his feet again, falling on a triple loop and a triple flip.  He did manage to land a triple Salchow and two triple toe-loops, but his hopes for an Olympic medal were gone._

_    Limping as he left the ice, it appeared Wu injured his right ankle during the program. Neither Wu, nor his coach, Sonja Baker paid any attention to Wu's scores for the event, which dropped him to tenth place overall.  After icing his ankle, Wu and Baker left the arena with no comments about the competition._

_    Four days after the event, the __United States__ Figure Skating Team issued a press release stating that Wu had severely injured his ankle and would not be competing in the World Championships in March in __Japan__.  Another member of the __U.S.__ Figure Skating Team will take Ken's spot on the World team in March._

_    Several skaters and friends of Wu and members of the Ice Skating Club of San Francisco have stated that they have not seen Wu at the arena since the Olympics, leading to the question of whether the twelve year old will continue to compete after a disastrous performance in Norway._

    Ken resisted the urge to tear the article into shred and placed it back on his desk.  He remembered the time after the Olympics so clearly, he hadn't needed to read the article to recall it.

    He and Sonja had left the arena before the event had ended, Ken walking on crutches, his ankle wrapped, in order to avoid the press.  He had spent the rest of the night locked in his hotel room, refusing to see anyone.  Most everyone respected that and his parents, Sonja and other athletes left him alone for much of the night.  His grandfather, however, had somehow broken his way into the hotel room.

    Ken had half expected his grandfather to yell at him, for disgracing his family and embarrassing his coach.  But he didn't.  Instead he put one arm around Ken, who was sitting curled up in a chair, staring out the window into darkness.  

    "My grandson…"

    That was all he said, and the next morning he was gone, on his way home to China.

    Ken and his parents left a few days later, not staying for the Closing Ceremonies.  Ken just wanted to be far away from it all as possible and they managed to leave with few people noticing.

    Back in the States, Ken's sports physician examined his ankle and told Ken while he would have to take a couple months off the ice, his ankle wasn't damaged permanently.  He would also have to stay off his ankle completely for two weeks.  So Ken devoted himself completely to his schoolwork and eventually, to physical therapy, avoiding everything that reminded him of the Olympics.  He didn't even watch the World Championships on TV, or see Scott Davis skate in his place.

    So it was a surprise to find himself sitting in the rink on a Sunday night after his ankle had heal and his physical therapy was finished, his skates sitting next to him on the bench.  He wasn't entirely sure what to do.  Part of him was filled with the need to be on the ice, to feel the cool air and the speed, but another part of him couldn't bear to face the humiliation all over again.  Ken's parents sat on another bench off to the side.  They had told him they would support him no matter what he chose, but the choice would have to be his to make.  He couldn't see them right now, but knew they were still there, waiting patiently as he decided his future.

    Staring at his skates, Ken heard footsteps coming from behind him and the sounds of fabric moving as he parents stood up from their bench.  

    "I'm sorry.  We're not allowing members of the press to speak with Ken right now." He heard his mother say calmly.  Ken turned and saw a short chipmunk-y looking man in an expensive grey suit.

    "Hi, I'm Don Tibbles, Senior VP, Hendrix Hockey Apparel." The man shook hands with both Ken's parents, a cheesy grin plastered to his face.  Ken could tell his parents were slightly stunned, by both the man's abruptness and having never heard of Hendrix Hockey Apparel, and Don Tibbles spotted this too.  

    "Ah, and here's Kenny!" He exclaimed, sidestepping Ken's parents and darting over to shake Ken's hand vigorously.  Ken hung on to the bench for dear life while Tibbles wrung his other hand.  Then, taking his arm back, he asked suspiciously, "Who are you?"

    "Don Tibbles." The man replied, grinning broadly again.  "Boy, do we have a great future for you."

    Ken stared at Don Tibbles silently, wondering what in the world he was talking about.  He had just blown the biggest competition of his life and this guy was talking about a great future?

    Seeing the confusion on Ken's face, Don continued.  "I'm senior VP of Hendrix Hockey Apparel, official sponsors of the Junior Goodwill Games Team USA Hockey."  

    Ken continued to gape at the older man.

    "Kenny, my boy, have we got a deal for you.  We've seen you skate; you've got some great talent and a lot of potential, that's why they want you."

    "Who?" Kenny asked, still not following.

    "Team USA!"  Don Tibbles looked shocked that Ken didn't know what was going on.  "We want you to play on Team USA!  The Junior Goodwill Games!  Hockey!"  

    "But…but I don't play hockey." Ken tried to explain.  They, whoever they was, obviously had the wrong person.  Ken had never played hockey a day in his life.  He'd never picked up a stick, or shot a puck or even tried on the skates; he'd just never been interested.

    "Ah…but you can." Tibbles told him, still grinning.  "We know all about your little experience at the Olympics."  Ken felt himself stiffen and saw his parents come stand on either side of Don Tibbles, their guard obviously up.

    "And if you decide to continue in the sport of figure skating, it's evident you'll go places.  But what about after that?  I'm here to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime."


	10. What You're Looking For

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Cripes…I can't believe it's taken me this long to get this chapter written!  Jeez…it's not even that good.  At least I don't think it is.  But the next chapter will be better, I promise.  It's already half written, so it shouldn't take a month to post!

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing.  You guys totally make my day!

    Several hours later, Ken sat in the kitchen of his house, still reeling from his encounter with the ever-excited Don Tibbles, and his mind racing with thoughts of the offer Tibbles had made him.

    The recruitment committee for the Junior Goodwill Games wanted him to play hockey.  Ken still couldn't fully grasp the idea.  The Goodwill Games was the most prestigious multi-sport competition next to the Olympics, and the Junior Goodwill Games would display the most promising up and coming athletes in the world.  Ken knew he couldn't compete in the figure skating competition, only skaters who competed on the Junior level could compete at the Games and Ken hadn't skated as a Junior in three years.  Not that he would want to skate at the Games; at this point he just didn't know.

    But hockey…?  Ken had never played hockey up until that day.  But Don Tibbles had shown up with a bag stuffed full of Hendrix Hockey gear for Ken; skates, pads, helmet, gloves, jerseys, the works.  So with nothing more than a lack of options, Ken tried them on.

    His first few minutes on hockey skates were very overwhelming.  Ken hadn't been on skates in three months, so he would have been feeling shaky anyway.  But then there was the more exaggerated curve to the hockey blades.  At several points, Ken felt himself shift his weight just a bit too much and pitch forward or backward onto the ice.  

    But after a few minutes, Ken began to get used to the new feeling and found some comfort in the edges.  He raced up and down the ice, enjoying the cool breeze and the speed and suddenly began to realize this might be exactly what he was looking for…

    One week of training later, Ken was on his way to Minnesota to meet the rest of Team USA.

    "Ken.  Ken!"  

    For the second time in two days, Ken awoke to Adam shaking him.

    "What?" mumbled Ken, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking at the clock.  5:15.  Adam's alarm wasn't set to ring for another hour and fifteen minutes.

    "Is something wrong?" Adam asked, a concerned parent look on his face.  It was then Ken registered where he was.  He was still sitting on the end of his bed, leaning against the wall, flashlight beside him.  

    "Yeah, I'm fine." Ken told him, scooting to the opposite end of his bed.  "I had a little trouble sleeping and I decided to read for a while and I guess I just fell asleep.  I'm okay." He reassured Adam, who had returned to his own bed, but still looked worried and a little sheepish.

    "Sorry." He told Ken.  "It was just really weird waking up and seeing you propped up against the wall like that.  You looked kinda…dead."

    Ken laughed.  "I promise I'll let you know when I'm dead." He told Adam, who laughed, clicked off the overhead light and rolled over onto his side.  Within minutes, his slowed, even breathing told Ken he was asleep.

    Ken slipped out of bed, grabbed a sweatshirt and his keys and quietly made his way out of the dorm.

    Once at the rink, Ken grabbed the box of figure skates out of his locker and carried them to a rinkside bench.  He ran two laps around the outside of the boards and stretched a bit.  He then spent everyone ounce of energy he had remembering everything about ice skating jumps.  He started attempting the most basic ones off the ice, concentrating on remembering the technique for each.  He worked his way up to a single Axel off the ice and then put his skates on, ready to try it all on ice.  

    After three laps around the ice, Ken felt he was ready.  He started with the most basic jump, a Waltz jump, but fell on his first attempt.  He took another lap around the ice, trying to collect himself.

    "It's just a Waltz jump, Ken." He told himself.  "It's half a revolution.  It's not difficult.  You can do this."

    Ken readied himself for another try and was able to land on his feet this time, though it was shaky.  He repeated the process with each different single revolution jump, until he was able to land all but the Axel.  He was ready to continue trying when he caught sight of the clock at the end of the rink and felt his stomach drop.  7:20.  He was going to be late for class.

    Ken raced off the ice, stashed his skates in the back of his locker, and bolted back to his dorm.  He pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt, grabbed his coat and backpack, and sprinted to Eden Hall's main building.  

    He dashed into his first class and slid into his seat, muttering an apology to Mrs. Willis, clutching the stitch in his side and desperately trying to catch his breath.

    "Where were you?" Adam whispered from the seat behind Ken, poking him in the back.  

    "At the rink." Ken answered, breathlessly, digging his notebook out of his backpack.

    "Gentlemen, anything you wish to share about Hesse's views of nihilism in _Siddhartha?"  Mrs. Willis's voice was sharp._

    "No ma'am." They both answered and Ken stuck his head in his book, wishing he could start the day over.

    As was the usual for Friday, the Ducks had a two hour practice session.  Orion had decided early on in the off-season that the Ducks' usual method of practicing, "playing or playing around" according to Goldberg, was not going to cut it in the world of high school hockey.  Thus the Ducks had practice three afternoons a week during the off-season and Orion had showed no sign of letting up from his strict regiment they had seen during the hockey season.

    Typically Ken had little problem getting through practice sessions, but after his time on the ice this morning, especially after the falls, he was having some problems.

    "Pick up the speed, Wu!" Orion yelled after Averman flew past him, stole the puck and nearly scored on Julie.  Ken groaned, breathing hard.  He was trying to pick up the speed, but his legs didn't seem to be getting the message.

    "Are you all right, Ken?" Adam asked him as they made their way to the locker room after practice.  "You seemed at little…"

    "Out of it?" Ken offered.  "Yeah, I'm just really tired.  I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night."

    Adam nodded and Ken was thankful he let the subject drop.


	11. Remembering How To Fly

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

The song used in this chapter belongs to a local band, Foolish Things, who is one of the most inspirational bands ever.

Yay for not taking a whole month to write this!  And yay for all of you who review!  Keep it up!  Words cannot express how much they mean.  And anne918, sure you can have Adam if you have nightmares…we all need a Duck of our own…!

    Ken stuck to his lack of sleep story and opted not to join the rest of the Ducks who were going to see a movie.  He sat on his bed, trying to decide exactly what he should do.  He wanted to go back to the rink and have another go on his figure skates, but after two hours of hardcore hockey practice plus the nearly two hours of skating he had put in that morning, Ken wasn't sure he could walk, let alone attempt to skate or jump.  Maybe tomorrow he could get some ice time in, but tonight wasn't an option.  

    Ken had just decided to take a hot shower in hopes of relieving his hurting muscles when someone knocked on his door.  He opened it to find Tony, holding a pile of mail and a box.

    "Hey, Ken.  I just picked up my mail and saw you had a package so I grabbed it.  Here ya go." He said quickly, tossing it into Ken's hands, who nearly dropped it.

    "Thanks." Ken called to Tony who was already heading down the hall toward his own room.  He shut the door, looked at the return address label on the box, and saw that it was from his parents.  He set the box on the floor, slit the packing tape with scissors and ripped the box open.  He pulled out the letter on top and started to read.

    _Ken,_

_    Was planning on sending you a letter to see how you were doing and to wish you well and I realized I had some stuff to send you.  You left a few sweatshirts in the dryer when you left, here they are._

    Ken reached into the box and pulled out three hooded sweatshirts.  "I was wondering where those went…" Ken laughed to himself.  He also pulled out a large plastic container full of cookies.

    _I made some cookies the other day and thought you might like some.  I know the food at school isn't the greatest.  I hope there's enough to share with your team._

    The rest of the letter was full of the normal stuff, how Ken's dad was doing and how work was going for each of them and how they missed him, but there was something at the end that caught Ken's eye.

    _I was at the rink the other day, dropping off some of your old pairs of skates at the pro shop to sell and I ran into Elaine Porter.  She asked me how you were doing at school and asked me to send something your way._

    Ken peered into the box and frowned, puzzled.  He pulled out a blank CD case with an envelope attached.  He pulled a small piece of paper out of the envelope and unfolded it.

    _Kenny,_

_    Hope you doing well in __Minnesota__ and having fun playing hockey.  This is just in case you need to remember why you started._

_    Elaine_

    Ken popped the disc into his CD player.  Within the first few notes of the song, Ken grinned, knowing exactly what it was.  He pulled it out and placed it on his nightstand.  He'd save it for tomorrow morning.

    Ken was up early, as usual, even though it was a Saturday.  After he reached the rink, he ran through his off ice warm-up of stretching and jumps and quickly laced up his skates.  He skated over to the stereo located in between the two penalty boxes, popped the CD into the stereo and turned up the volume.  He listened to the acoustic guitar chords for several seconds, remembering back to the many times he'd heard this song when he was younger.

    Elaine had always brought her own CDs or tapes to listen to when skaters weren't performing to their music.  Ken always felt that this one was especially appropriate since it talked about flying and was always one of his favorites.  He grinned for a moment and thought about how funny it was that both hockey players and figure skaters always viewed skating like flying.  Personally, Ken agreed; to him, it didn't matter what you were doing, speeding down the ice was as close to flying as you could get.

    Now, Ken took several laps around the rink, losing himself in the lyrics and the music.

_If I could talk to you, would you listen?_

_If I could hear you, would you talk to me?_

_Sometimes I like I'm all alone_

_Sometimes I feel like I'm at your throne_

_I know you are there_

_So I have no doubts, I have to fears_

_And I wanna fly away_

_And I wanna see you in a new way_

_If these walls could talk, would they show how strong's my wall?_

_If these walls could sing, would they make heaven real?_

_And I wanna fly away_

_And I wanna see you in a new way_

_I know you are there_

_So I have no doubts, and I have fears_

_And, and I wanna fly away_

_And I wanna see you in a new way_

    As the song played over and over, Ken tried to recall every bit of technique each move required, every move, step or turn for each spin or jump.  He could do simple jumps now, without losing control and a few spins as well.  Slowly everything was coming back to him, including all the reasons why he kept skating for so long.  

    So caught up in his skating, Ken didn't even notice a figure standing near the doorway, watching him.  He didn't hear the figure exit the doors to the rink, or the door click behind him.


	12. The Return

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Iceeblue – thanks so much for your review.  I like the friendship between Ken and Adam myself, it away seemed to me like they would have a lot in common.  And glad you love figure skating…are you a skater or a fan?

Annie918 and allie – hmmm…I wonder if you'll find out who it is in this chapter…maybe…maybe not…(evil laugh)  Thank you, thank you, thank you for reviewing!

Tino – awww…thanks again…you always write such nice reviews!  Yes…the song is one of my favorites that Foolish Things does, if you want more info on them, try www.foolishthingsmusic.com …I believe the site is under construction, but it's got some info about the band and I think they've got the lyrics posted too.  And, yes, I am a figure skater; I've been skating since I was five.  But right now I'm going through my own skating issues, part of which prompted the creation of this story.

Again, mucho thanks to everyone who reviewed and everyone who's reading this.  And just so y'all know, the next update will take a couple weeks.  I've got three major exams (major as in, they determine whether I pass or fail my classes) in the next two weeks so I've got to spend some serious time memorizing g-protein receptor pathways and amino acid structures and junk like that.  So I'll have to limit the amount of time I spend writing and reviewing.  But(!), I have the whole week of Thanksgiving off from school, so I plan on getting some serious writing done then and will probably be able to update a couple of times that week. So, until then…

    Somewhere seemingly far away, an alarm sounded.  Ken stirred and after several moments, registered what it was.  He reached under his pillow and turned off his alarm clock.  He slid out of bed, pulled on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, grabbed his backpack and coat and silently left his room.  Within five minutes, he reached the ice arena and retrieved his skates from the bottom of his locker.

    For nearly three weeks now Ken had been skating in the early morning hours.  He could see himself improving too; yesterday he had been able to land a couple of double revolution jumps and the simple stuff was becoming simple again.  His love for skating had been rekindled and Ken spent the hours he wasn't skating with his mind in the rink, recalling technique and remembering how everything used to feel.

    Despite his excitement of being able to skate again, Ken had not told anyone.  He wasn't sure how the Ducks or Orion would react to the idea of him figure skating.  He thought Orion might react negatively to anything that might cause his hockey training to suffer, and the Ducks…  The Ducks were his best friends, but he wasn't sure what they really thought about figure skating.  Ken had been faced with several hockey players in his life, mostly when he was younger, that thought that figure skating was a waste of ice or didn't qualify as a sport.  Granted, figure skating was less of a contact sport than hockey, but that didn't mean it was harder or more difficult.  After participating in both sports for several years, Ken knew that one definitely wasn't harder than the other; they each required different skills.  Still, he didn't know how the Ducks would react and so he decided not to tell them, sneaking off in the early morning hours or late at night to practice.

    Ken had also kept his skating from his parents.  Ken's parents had called him several times in the past few weeks, but Ken had kept quiet about skating, knowing they would ask questions.  At this point, Ken wasn't sure exactly what he was skating for, or why, other than he felt happier doing it.

    After two hours of practice, Ken left the ice, showered, and got ready for school, stuffing his stuff back in the bottom of his locker.  With twenty minutes to go before class, Ken headed to the cafeteria, starving as usual.  He grabbed a bowl of cereal, a banana and a carton of milk and made his way through the crowd to the Duck's table.  

    "You're like a machine, man." Adam told him as Ken took a seat across the table, shaking his head.  "I don't know how you do it."

    "Considering I used to be on the ice at 5:30 in the morning for figure skating practice, I think I'm used to it." Ken told him.  

    Adam rolled his eyes.  "I'd never be used to that." 

    Ken was about to reply when Averman dropped into the seat next to him and nearly collapsed on the table.  "Sleep…" He gasped, his eyes drooping shut.

    "What's the matter with you?" Adam asked, pulling his binder out from under Averman's head.  

    "That stupid essay for Willis." Averman pulled his head off the table and yawned.  "I was up all night finishing the damn thing."

    "We've had the assignment for two weeks." Ken told Averman.  "Why'd you put it off till last night?"

    "Just cause I'm not an overachiever like you or Banksie…" Averman trailed off and dropped his head onto his arms.  Ken and Adam exchanged a look.  Ken didn't exactly consider himself an overachiever, but he had finished the essay several days ago so he wouldn't have to worry about it.

    "So." Guy dropped a load of books on the table, causing Averman to jump in his sleep.  "What's the plan for tonight, guys?"  He asked.  "It's finally Friday.  We have to do something for making it through this week."

    Ken nodded.  The past week had been by far the most difficult and demanding week of high school so far.  He'd had two tests, a paper and a presentation all due aside from the normal amount of reading and studying for his classes.  He'd been able to get everything done and was sure he'd done well on his tests, but Ken was still relieved the week was over.

    "What about dinner and a movie?" Adam suggested.  "It's not the most exciting thing in the world, but at least it's something to do."

    Guy and Ken both agreed and before the first bell rang, all the Ducks had joined in the plan for the evening.

    After dinner than night, a movie and a stop for desert at the diner, Ken and the other Ducks reached their dorm just before one in the morning.

    Ken yawned as he followed Adam into their room and staggered toward his bed.  He'd been up for about twenty hours straight and wanted nothing more than to sleep.  

    As Ken was pulling a t-shirt on, Adam noticed the blinking light on their answering machine and played the message.

    "Hi Ken, it's you mom.  I need you to give me a call when you get this.  I'll talk to you soon.  Bye."

    Adam turned to Ken, who shrugged.  "It's 11 out there, I'll call them tomorrow.  Besides, I gotta sleep."  He pulled back the covers on his bed and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

    Ken woke up later than usual the next morning, but still had enough time to get some practice in before the rest of the team was awake.  He quickly changed, pulled on a sweatshirt, and grabbed his keys.  

    Fifteen minutes later, Ken was on the ice, music playing.  After warming up some simple jumps, he took a few more laps around the rink.  He had come so close to landing a double loop jump yesterday; he was determined to get it today.  The loop jump was a particularly difficult one because, unlike some other jumps, you couldn't use a toepick to help you get into the air.  But the jump had always been an easy one for Ken and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to landing it.

    After numerous attempts, however, Ken was beginning to get discouraged.  He had fixed his problems of not getting enough rotation into the double jump and being tilted in the air, but he still couldn't get it.  He was tired, out of breath and his butt was numb from falling so many times.  

    "Somedays you have to know when to stop." Ken told himself, remembering many times when his coach had to drag him off the ice.  Wanting to continue skating was one thing, but sometimes working too hard was counterproductive and often caused injury.  Ken skated over to a bench, feeling slightly frustrated.  As he sat down, he glanced at the clock on the far wall and his heart jumped.  It was nearly ten.  Most of the Ducks would be up by now and wondering where he was.  Ken scrambled to take his skates off.

    "You are improving." A voice from behind him startled Ken and he turned to find himself looking straight into the eyes of his grandfather.


	13. How Things Go

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Kaila – I think I responded in a review for Handbook for the Sellout, but I'm still kinda loopy from the flu and can't be sure of anything at this point.  Yes, I'm a skater…I've been figure skating for about 14 years and I play pickup hockey when I get the chance.  Fun stuff…There's something about winter sports that I just can't get enough of…can't wait to go snowboarding either…Thanks for the great comments.

Tino – I was never a big Ken fan either, they don't really expand upon his character in the movies…but I realized I could probably get away with writing a convincing story about him…so he's one of my fave's now.  Go figure… and Averman…ha!  He reminds me a bit of one of my friends from high school…brilliant, witty, but completely apathetic to nearly everything going on around him.  And I'm sorry you ended up quitting skating…I've actually quit myself a couple times…for a few years in junior high and again my first year of college…but it just keeps pulling me back!  It's actually pulling at me right now…I'm going home for next week and it'll be my first time on the ice in two months…hopefully it'll be good.  And don't worry about rambling…rambling is thoroughly entertaining…and I do it all the time…look at me ramble now!  Ok…done.

Again, thanks for the great reviews…they mean the world to me.  And I made it through my exams…barely.  I got the flu last week and ended up taking a few of them with a 102 degree fever…ick.  But it's over and I don't have to worry about any of it for 10 days!  Hooray!  And I know this chapter is short, but I'll have the following one up in a few days, hopefully.  

    Ken stared at the older man in panic; he hadn't seen or spoken his grandfather in nearly three years, since the disastrous night in Norway.  He had never visited or called for Ken since then, and always feeling like he had let his family down, Ken had never contacted him either.  

    "Why don't the two of you take some time in my office." A quiet voice startled Ken.  He hadn't noticed Orion sitting next to his grandfather until he spoke up.

    Ken's grandfather nodded.  "Thank you."  He stood slowly and Ken followed him to Orion's office on the far side of the arena.

    His grandfather closed the door behind him, sat in one of the chairs in front of Orion's desk and looked at Ken, an unreadable expression on his face.  Ken sat uneasily on the sofa on the opposite wall, feeling very much on edge.  His grandfather had always been one of the hardest people to figure out what they were thinking; his face never let anything on.  It was extremely unnerving.

    Ken sat anxiously, waiting for his grandfather to speak.  He half expected him to say how disappointed he was with Ken and how he had disgraced his family and his coaches.  But his grandfather remained silent, staring at him intently.

    "I- I'm sorry." Ken said quietly, for lack of anything better to say.

    The expression on his grandfather's face instantly softened.  "There is no reason for you to feel sorry." He told Ken, his formal English just as Ken remembered.  "You have done nothing wrong."

    "But I screwed up." Ken protested.  "I blew the biggest performance of my life!"

    "Maybe."  Ken started to protest but his grandfather put up a hand to silence him.  "You were so young.  You still are.  You don't know how many more life changing performances there could have been."

    Ken considered this.  He supposed that could be right.  If he hadn't quit skating, he would have had a good ten or more years left of competitive skating, barring any unforeseen disasters.  Ken sighed, his grandfather was right.

    "But I still let you all down."  Again, his grandfather countered him.

    "The only way you could have let us down would have been if you had given up, or acted in a way that was not how you were brought up.  You did not do that.  You skated, you did not give up, even when things did not go the way you hoped.  You showed more strength than any of us could have asked you to."

    Ken smiled slightly, he had not heard such praise in a long time.  But something was still bothering him.

    "Why are you here?" He asked his grandfather.

    "Your father called me." His grandfather smiled.  "Your Coach Orion saw you practicing one morning and though it best to let your parents know.  And they called me."

    Ken was confused.  He understood why Orion called his parents.  And even why his parents called his grandfather.  "But why are you _here?" Ken asked again._

    His grandfather smiled again.  "Because none of us know your intentions.  We do not know if you are just skating to skate or if you are planning to compete again in the future.  So, no matter what, I am here.  

    "You came here for me?"  Ken asked incredulously.

    "That, and retirement was becoming dull.  I go to the market, I play cards, I watch the clouds.  There is no excitement.  I am not made for than." His grandfather said with a grin.

    The wheels were turning in Ken's head.  "So…if I wanted to start training again…" he began.

    "I would be here to help you." His grandfather finished.  "Are you thinking about resuming your training?"

    "I hadn't really thought about it until now." Ken replied honestly. 

    "And…?"

    Ken hesitated.   Did he really want to start skating seriously again?  He loved spending the time on the ice again, but would he still feel that way after five hours of practice six days a week?  He had to worry a little bit about school, but though his classes were difficult, he was acing all of them.  Plus they only had hockey practice three days a week right now…

    His grandfather could sense his uncertainty.  "What if you start slow?  You take it a bit at a time and figure out exactly what you want to do."

    "Just take things as they go." Suggested Ken.

    "Exactly."

    Ken nodded.  "Yeah.  Let's see how things go."


	14. All The Difference

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Ok, that was absolutely the last time I'll ever say, "I'll have the next part up in a couple days…".  I swear, whenever I say that, I end up with writer's block or something and then it takes me three weeks to post the next bit.  So, never again.  I will try to work on writing and posting more frequently, but the next week and a half may be sketchy since I've got finals coming up.  Hooray…

And, big surprise to me(!), this story was nominated for the Best Angst award on Queertet.net, which was completely unexpected and many thanks to whoever nominated me!

annie918 – Thanks so much for the great comments!  And don't you just hate when you miss an update…that happens to me and I'm like "where'd that come from?!?"

allie – aw…thanks!

Pixie13 – I'm a big fan of Ken too…I didn't used to be, but writing this story helped a lot.  And it's always cool to see stories about the "other" Ducks, and to see how each writer portrays them, since their characters aren't as developed in the movies as Charlie and Adam and Fulton…thanks for the review!

Tino – I like Ken's grandfather too…I'm really looking forward to developing his character.  I read a figure skating book a while ago about a skater in Japan and I'm modeling Ken's grandfather after her a bit.  And I glad you're liking Ken now…we can always use more Kenny Wu fans!  And thanks for the good luck wishes; skating is actually going really well now, so I'm thrilled about that!  Oh…and as for Ken competing again…well, we'll see.  Don't forget, he's got another hockey season coming up!

    As it turned out, one week made all the difference for Ken.  His grandfather was staying in a hotel close to Eden Hall and was in the process of searching for a nearby apartment.  They had cleared Ken's training with Coach Orion and obtained permission to use the Eden Hall ice rink during hours when it wasn't in use.  And Ken's skating was quickly improving.  After practicing the same jumps and moves over and over for five hours a day for close to ten years, Ken knew the technique for all the jumps, but sometimes could never tell exactly what he was doing wrong.  Ken's grandfather had spent several decades skating, coaching and watching skating, and was often able to pick out the slight nuances in Ken's skating.  

So with his grandfather's help and advice, Ken was quickly becoming more consistent in his skating.

    Ken had also finally told the Ducks about his skating.  They had taken it better than Ken had expected; no "wimpy figure skater" comments, in fact, they had all been pretty supportive.  Connie and Julie had even come to watch him practice a couple times and though he still thought Ken was crazy for getting up at four thirty in the morning, Adam convinced Ken to stop hiding his alarm clock under his pillow and always grabbed Ken some breakfast when he was running late from practice.

    "Excellent." Ken's grandfather told him after another early morning practice.  "Your jumps are regaining height.  That is good."  Ken smiled at the praise; relearning skating was difficult and he liked the feeling of making progress.  Approval from his grandfather was a good indication of that.  

    "You will be here this afternoon."  The statement wasn't a question, but it wasn't really a command either.  It was more of a conformation; that was the way his grandfather's mind worked.  He believed that skating was a decision that should be made by the skater, not forced on by parents or coaches.  Ken remembered seeing kids as young as six, seven and eight being yelled at by coaches or parents to get back on the ice, or to stop complaining they were tired.  Ken's grandfather believed in asking him, and as Ken got older he would ask himself, if he really wanted to skate today.  For Ken, the answer had always been yes.

    Ken nodded.  Ken still had Ducks practice every Monday, Wednesday and Friday after school, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays the rink was empty, so Ken practiced for two more hours those days.  

    Ken said goodbye to his grandfather, stuffed his skates into his locker, and showered and changed for school.  He raced to the cafeteria, grabbed a bagel and orange juice for breakfast, and slid into a spot at the Ducks' usual table, where most of them were watching Averman haphazardly scribbled on a sheet of paper.  Ken glanced at Guy, who nodded and rolled his eyes.  

    "Not again." Ken  muttered to Julie, who was sitting next to him.  She smirked.  Averman had gotten in to the bad, but mildly amusing, habit of leaving his lengthy English and history essays till the last possible moment, a routine that Ken could never understand.  But it was very entertaining for the rest of the team to watch him scramble to finish his papers; the Bash Brothers had even started timing him.  Today, they grinned almost evilly as the bell signaling the five minute passing period before first hour rang and Averman looked at the clock in horror.  

    "Shit…" He muttered to himself.  "Go on," he told Ken, Adam, Guy, Connie and Julie.  "I'll catch up."  The group raised their eyebrows at each other.  Their English essays were due at the beginning of class; Averman only had a few minutes to finish and get to class.  Adam shrugged and they left the cafeteria, heading toward the English wing of the building.  

    "I hate that he gets away with this." Julie commented as they fought their way through the crowded hallway.  

    "I don't get it." Adam added, nodding.  "How does he write a three page essay in forty minutes and still pull off an A?"  

    "It's Averman." Guy pointed out.  "He's the strangest person we've ever met and probably the smartest too."

    "It just angers me that he can put it all off and still do better than me." Connie said and Julie nodded emphatically.  "I spent four hours on our last essay and all I got was a B-."

    Having reached their English classroom, Ken placed his paper on top of the pile on Mrs. Willis's desk and slid into his seat.  He turned so he could see the doorway and grinned at Adam who was sitting behind him, keeping an eye on his watch.

    "He's got forty-five seconds." Adam muttered to the group.  

    "I take it Averman's trying to beat the clock again?" Sky remarked as she took her seat in front of Ken.

    "You know it." Ken replied with a grin.

    "Think he's gonna make it?" Julie asked, both she and Connie watching the door as well.

    "I dunno." Guy answered, leaning over Adam's shoulder to check the time.  "He didn't even start this one till this morning.  And unless he writes his conclusion and makes it from here to the cafeteria in…"  He fell silent as an out of breath Averman sprinted into the classroom, paper held triumphantly in his fist.  He raced to the front of the classroom and tossed his paper on the top of the pile just as the bell rang.  He turned, took a dramatic bow, and made his way to his seat, his fellow Ducks and a few others applauding him and the rest of the class wondering what had just happened.

    "Hey, Ken." 

    At hearing his name on his way to his last class of the day, Ken stopped walking down the hallway and waited for Charlie to catch up with him.  

    "What's goin' on, man?" Charlie asked, clapping Ken on the shoulder.

    "Not much." Ken replied.  "You?"

    "A bunch of us are gonna check out a movie this afternoon, before all you crazy Honors kids have to study.  You in?"

    "Nah." Ken shook his head.  "Can't.  I've got practice."

    "Oh, right.  Cool, we'll see you later then."

    "See you later." Ken echoed as Charlie disappeared into the crowd.


	15. Not All That Much

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Jessi – When I took AP English in school, I had this sadistic teacher who required that all assignments be on her desk before the bell rang that day…any time afterward and you were docked a whole letter grade…I kinda imagine Willis to be a bit like her.  Psycho teacher….  And I'm writing Averman based on one of my friends from high school…highly entertaining, cause I'm thinking about his personality and thinking "oh, yeah…I forgot about the time he did…"  great stuff.  So I'm sure he'll have several more good parts in this.

Gina – glad you liked it and I promise…more Adam is coming!

Tino – Isn't is funny how just one fic can change your whole perception of a character.  The great thing about the Duck is that, with the exception of Charlie and a bit with Banksie, you never learn very much about the characters, so you can create them almost however you like.  Fun stuff.  

Kaila – Again, I'm glad you like and I'm glad that this story stands out a bit.  It does seem like there are a lot of almost duplicate stories out there; it makes you appreciate the unusual ones.

Ahhh…room to breathe!  Finals are over and I miraculously managed to pass o-chem (yay!) and I'm out of my stupid house, away from my stupid roommates.  So, I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and a Happy New Year and I hope 2004 is a good year for everyone.

I know this seems really short, but (!) I posted two chapters.  Mainly because I realized how pathetically short this one was and I couldn't bring myself to post something that lame, so I wrote another chapter.  They're both short, but together they make it a bit longer.  Happy reading!

    After his second two hour practice session of the day, Ken was exhausted and ready to call it a day.  However, he still had a study session to make it through before the day was over.  Since all the other Ducks had gone to the movie and Ken felt a bit like a dork sitting alone, he ate dinner with Sky.

    "Words cannot express how much I don't want to study tonight." He told her, trying not to fall asleep in his spaghetti.

    "I know." Sky agreed, taking a bite of chocolate pudding.  "It's insane how much they're assigning us all at the same time.  I mean, a paper due in English today, a math test tomorrow, history test next Tuesday…do they want us all to drop out before our sophomore year?"

     Ken grinned.  "Hopefully our math test won't be too bad.  It's only over one chapter."

    "True.  But who really cares about parabolas and ellipses?" Sky exclaimed, waiving a spoonful of pudding around.  "Okay, enough school.  How's skating going?"

    Sky was one of the few students at Eden Hall besides the Ducks that knew about Ken's skating.  While Ken was a member of the brilliant JV hockey team, he was also a lowly freshman.  Most of the Eden Hall students didn't care one way or another, but certain members of the Varsity team, still smarting from their loss to the Ducks, seemed to be on a quest to find anything and everything to humiliate them with.  When Cole found out that Averman was an obsessive Mystery Science Theater 3000 fan, he let it loose to the whole school.  However, Averman didn't really care; he was proud of being a "MSTie", as he put it and apparently with the help of Cole's story, managed to recruit people for a MST3K fan club.  The look on Cole and Riley's faces when they found this out was priceless; the Ducks had laughed over that for a good couple weeks, but now Riley and Cole had made it obvious that there were after something a little more damaging than a TV show obsession.  So Ken kept his skating between him and his closest friends.

    It wasn't that he was terrified of the entire student body of Eden Hall finding out that he was a figure skater.  A lot of them knew he had been at one time and they left him alone about it.  But Ken could just imagine the questions coming at him if people found out.  "What are your plans, Ken?"  "Are you going back to the Olympics?"  Most people just didn't understand doing something as competitive as figure skating just for fun.  

    "It's going pretty well.  I like having my grandfather here; he's been able to help me out a lot.  I'm improving a lot faster than I thought I would."

    "I should hope so." Sky grinned at him.  "With all that time you spend on the ice."

    Ken shrugged and grinned back.  "It's not that much really."  He said, ignoring the look for disbelief Sky gave him.  "Two hours Monday, Wednesday, Friday; four hours Tuesday and Thursday and a couple hours over the weekend."  Ken laughed as Sky rolled her eyes.

    "It's really not that much." He insisted.  "When I was doing serious training when I was younger, I was on the ice over six hours a day, at least six days a week.  That's how a lot of us serious skaters trained."

    "And you were, what, ten?" Sky asked.

    Ken shrugged.  When he was ten, he was the Junior National Champion and had years of serious training under his belt.  He glanced at his watch.  "We'd better get going.  It's nearly seven."  Sky nodded, they returned their trays to the kitchen and headed back to the freshman dorm to study.


	16. Time Flies

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

    "I can't believe spring break is already next week!" Connie exclaimed at lunch on the Wednesday before Eden Hall's spring break.  The rest of the Ducks nodded excitedly, as they all had plans of some sort.  All the out of state Ducks were going home for the week, Connie was going to Maine with Julie, and the other Minnesota Ducks had a whole week planned of sleeping, slacking and not much else.  

    Ken agreed with Connie; he couldn't believe it was the middle of March already.  Despite how crazy the semester had been so far, it had gone quickly and the Ducks only had just over two more months left of their freshman year.  Ken, Adam, Guy, Averman, Connie and Julie had finally gotten used to their Honors classes…sort of.  But they weren't sure they were looking forward to the next year, when their real AP courses began.  Orion had been running them ragged at practice as usual, but the Ducks were improving; everyone noticed it.  Even Coach Wilson, who had begun attending some of their practices had commented on it.  Which made the Ducks slightly nervous.  They knew that several members of the Varsity team were seniors, which meant that there would be open spots on the Varsity team next year, which was why Wilson had been watching their practices.  Ken wasn't too nervous; he knew he would most likely be placed on JV again and was fine with that, he wasn't sure he was good enough to play at the Varsity level just yet.  Adam and Charlie were the most stressed about the idea; Charlie because he had done his share of mouthing off to just about every faculty member during his first few weeks at school and was worried that would affect him getting onto the team, and Adam, well, Adam stressed about hockey no matter what was going on.  The rest of the Ducks knew Adam was guaranteed a spot on the team; it was the other spots that were uncertain.  

    But Russ, who was in the same spot as Ken and would most likely be on JV another year, had made fun of and mocked them enough so they stopped complaining out loud.  Or at least to Russ and Ken.  They didn't really have to worry about next year's teams until the end of school this year.  And Ken wasn't too concerned about that just yet.  He was looking forward to spring break.  Ken and his grandfather were flying to San Francisco for the week and he was looking forward to spending some time with his parents.

    Fortunately for Ken and the rest of the Ducks, the end of the week found them quickly.  Orion let them have Friday afternoon off from practice, so after school, Ken quickly packed while Adam kept him company.  Julie and Connie were packing for their trip to Maine, and Russ, Dwayne, Luis and Portman were packing to go home as well.  

    "So what exactly are you guys going to spend your break doing?" Ken asked, as he shoved several pairs of jeans into his suitcase.  

    Adam sighed.  "They've got it all planned out."  He said, shaking his head.  "Nearly two hundred hours of sleeping, eating, and hanging around Charlie's watching movies."

    "Sounds like fun." Ken observed.

    Adam shrugged.  "They're gonna drive me nuts if they think I'll be there everyday.  A day or two of that is fine, but I'd rather spend my break…"

    "Playing hockey?" Ken suggested with a grin.  

    Adam grinned sheepishly.  "I like being productive…" 

    Ken laughed, but he understood.  While he was going home for break, he counted on spending a couple of hours on the ice each day.  

    Two hours later, Ken and his grandfather were boarding their flight to San Francisco.  As Ken settled into his seat, he tried to keep a grin off his face.  It was good to be going home, if only for a bit.  Ken's grandfather noticed and laughed lightly.

    "I am excited myself." He said.  "I have not been to San Francisco in many years."

    Ken grinned back and pulled his worn copy of _1984_ and a notebook.  The faculty at Eden Hall didn't believe in the concept of spring break judging by the amount of homework they had assigned.  But the sooner he got it done, the more time Ken would have to enjoy his break.


	17. Potential

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks.  The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine.  However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Well, so much for being productive over break…classes started Tuesday; blech.  

Flat*Out*Crazy – I hate that too…but my favorite is when I've got an exam the Monday after spring break…whose dumb idea was that?!?  And as for Ken's spring break…read on to find out!

Gina, Pixie and Kaila – Thanks for your reviews…I'm glad you're all still enjoying it!

    "I'm so glad you're home." Ken's mother told him, hugging him for the tenth time since his parents had picked him up from the airport.

    "Mo-om, you've told me that twelve times already!  Besides, I've only been gone two and a half months." He told her.

    "It's a mother's prerogative." She insisted before telling him to take his stuff upstairs and not leave it in the hallway.

    Ken dropped his suitcase and backpack on his bed and went downstairs to the kitchen, where his grandfather was already seated at the table.  Ken sat in the seat next to him as his mother looked at him expectantly.

    "So, what do you want to eat?" She asked.  "You can't have eaten well on that plane."

    After one of the best tasting home-cooked meals he'd had in years, Ken headed back upstairs to his room to unpack.  He quickly unpacked his clothes, piled his school stuff on the small desk, and left both pairs of skates in his hockey bag on the floor.  He sat on his bed for a moment, deciding whether he had the energy to tackle some more reading for school; while it was barely nine now, Ken was still on Minnesota time where it was nearly eleven.  He pulled his copy of _1984 towards him, debating whether he had enough energy to work on his essay.  _

    "Ken?" He heard his mother knock on the door.

    "Yeah." Ken responded.  His mother stuck her head in the door.

    "Can we come in?" She asked.  Ken nodded.

    His mom and grandfather came into his room.  His grandfather stood near the door and his mother sat on the edge of his bed.  Ken looked at them both expectantly.

    "How's school going?" His mother asked.  

    "Pretty well." Ken replied.  "My classes are pretty hard, but some of them are interesting.  And I'm doing well in all of them." He grinned.

    His mom smiled back.  "And how about skating?  Your grandfather tells me you're improving a lot." Ken nodded again.  "I've gotten a lot of my triple jumps back; I started landing triple flips last week."

    "That's great." His mother smiled again.  "And are you enjoying it?"

    Ken thought about that.  As much as getting up at un-Godly hours in the morning was most definitely not fun, the early mornings were definitely worth it.  "Yeah." He said.  "I guess I didn't realize how much I missed it until I started again."  

    "Have you given any thought to where you want to take it?" Ken's dad asked, appearing in the doorway.

    Ken considered his question.  He had always skated competitively.  Even at four years of age, he liked competing.  At that age, he just loved the thrill of being better than the other skaters.  As he grew older, his grandfather taught him to view competition as a way to push himself even more; not just to be better than the other skater, but to be better than the last performance he had skated.  Right now Ken was happy relearning everything, but then what?  He looked from his dad to his mom to his grandfather.

    "Your grandfather says he thinks you have the potential to be competitive again." His dad told him.

    "I'm not sure – really?" Ken stopped mid-sentence and looked at his grandfather.

    "Really."  His grandfather smiled.  "You are progressing much quicker than any of us expected.  I see no reason why you could not compete if you wanted to.  You would have to put more time in, of course, begin a training regiment again.  But I think you would do very well."

    Ken sat in silence, feeling a bit stunned, and not really sure how to respond.  His mom must have noticed because she spoke up.

     "Ken, you've got a whole week here.  You could spend it training and decide then if you want continue and compete."

    Ken nodded.  "I guess I could try it."

    Ken parents and his grandfather nodded and left the room, his grandfather saying he would call the rink to find out ice times.  Ken quickly changed and crawled into bed; he knew he had a long week ahead of him.


	18. Training

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks. The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine. However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

"Oof." Ken grunted as he dropped his bag next to a bench and slumped onto the bench. It was Monday, two days into Ken's new training schedule and he was feeling it. He had spent a couple hours on the ice over the weekend, but since there was never a great deal of ice time on the weekends, his grandfather had him work on off-ice training. He ran two miles each day and spent several hours in the weight room at the rink. And he was feeling it. He already had great stamina from playing hockey, but hadn't spent a lot of time working with weights in a while, and now, muscles Ken forgot he had were sore.

Ken looked over the boards in front of him and saw several figure skaters leaving the ice as the zamboni began to circle the ice. There were several kids that were quite a bit younger than him and a couple that looked about his age, but Ken didn't recognize any of them. He watched them for another moment, then willed himself off the bench. He jogged a couple laps around the rink and went through his pre-skate warm-up. He quickly laced up his skates, pulled on his hooded sweatshirt and gloves and stepped onto the ice. Gliding over to the rink side stereo, he popped a CD in and pressed play. Though it was only 8:30 in the morning, Ken knew all the other skaters had finished their morning workout and were at school. Most of them would be back later in the day, around one or two, but until then, Ken had the ice to himself. By the time he skated a few laps around the empty rink, his grandfather was already seated on the bench in one of the hockey boxes.

"Ready?" He asked Ken, who nodded.

"First things first." His grandfather began. "Posture. You can't bend forward the way you do in hockey. Make sure you do not carry that over."

Startled, Ken adjusted his head, shoulders and back, unaware that he had been skating any differently.

"Better. Concentrate on doing that when you skate. Now, your crossovers…"

After three hours on the ice working on the tiniest details of basic skating, Ken collapsed back onto his bench. Starving, he pulled his sack lunch out of his skate bag and devoured his sandwich in seconds. He was halfway through an apple when his grandfather sat down next to him, his own lunch in his hands, and smiled.

"You are doing very well. How are you feeling?" He asked.

Ken stared at his grandfather for a moment. "I hurt." He said bluntly. "I haven't done any serious weight training in a while; I keep thinking my legs are going to fall off."

His grandfather continued to smile. "But you feel stronger, yes?"

Ken shook his head. "I just feel like my legs are made of Jell-o."

Another smile. "But you are still able to skate well with your Jell-o legs. You may not feel it, but you already look stronger."

At that Ken smiled. "Yeah, I guess so." He agreed. He knew it would be a while before he'd be back in competitive shape, but he liked the feeling of making progress.

After his lunch, Ken spent an hour and a half in the gym. He ran for a bit and spent the rest of the time on the padded mats, stretching his tired muscles. He took his time walking back downstairs to the rink and by the time he had his skates on, there were a few other skaters already on the ice. The four skaters all looked around Ken's age and Ken knew they were all higher level skaters who had arranged their school schedules so they could leave early for training. Most of them glanced at Ken wearily as he skated on to the ice and then chose to ignore him. Ken didn't care; he had spent more than half his life in one skating rink or another, he was used to the attitudes that often came with the sport.

Ken skated around the perimeter of the rink for a bit, waiting for his grandfather. Not used to skating for more than four hours a day, Ken wasn't sure exactly how much energy he had left in him and wanted to conserve it for now.

Seeing his grandfather sit himself on a bench in one of the boxes, Ken skated over.

"You worked hard this morning on the basics." His grandfather told him. "Now, we jump."

Ken grinned.

He quickly ran through his single and double jumps, his grandfather watching, occasionally calling out comments or instructions. Swerving around another skater, Ken leapt into a double Axel, landing cleanly on his right skate. He was about to move onto another jump when he noticed his grandfather beckoning to him. He skated over to the boards, breathing hard.

"Excellent. From now on, I want you to complete at least five of each jump before you move on, double Axel and all triples." Ken nodded. For a lot of skaters, the most difficult aspect of skating was consistency, repeating difficult maneuvers on demand. He knew this exercise would help.

Ken completed four more double Axels and moved on to triple jumps. After five triple Salchows and five triple toe loops, he moved on to triple loops. Circling around the rink to set up for his jump, Ken noticed the rest of the skaters gathered in a group by the wall. Turning backwards, Ken leapt off his right foot, rotated three times in the air and landed cleanly, noticing the shocked looks on the other skaters faces. Ken tried not to smile.


	19. Being Underestimated

And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks. The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine. However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.

Tessie – thanks for the great comments, it's nice to know that someone is still reading this! Ken is cool…there's no getting around that. The next two chapters will be short, but things will start picking up quickly since I know where I'm taking this now.

* * *

Ken saw his mother glance at him, an amused expression on her face as he shoveled the remains of his second bowl of cereal into his mouth. Before he could reach for the cereal box for a third time, she snatched it from the counter.

"You do realize dinner is in less than an hour, right?" She asked him, putting the box away.

"Mom," Ken gestured to his now empty bowl, "that's why I'm having cereal and not a steak." He grinned. "I am starving though. Can I have my box back?"

"No." She told him. "Dinner's soon."

"You sound like such a mom." Ken half-complained, grinning.

"Well, that's a good thing, since I am a mom." She replied, grinning back.

"Well, great, Mo-om." Ken snuck a carrot from the pile of vegetable his mother was chopping. "So what's for dinner, anyway?"

"Steaks." She replied, gesturing to a large package on the counter. "Baked potatoes, fruit salad and steamed carrots."

"Very All-American." Ken commented, stealing another carrot. "I'm starved."

"Good. You can finish chopping these then." His mother handed him the knife and began unwrapping the steaks.

Ken groaned. He didn't mind helping out, much, but chopping vegetables was his least favorite chore. Except for maybe cleaning bathrooms.

"Don't you think we have enough here for all of us?" Ken asked. His mother raised an eyebrow at him. Ken looked at the pile; she was right. He could eat all of them himself. He sighed and started chopping.

"I wish I ate this well at school." Ken commented, thinking of the pseudo-pudding, macaroni and slightly rotting fruit the Eden Hall cafeteria specialized in.

"Is the food really that bad?" His mother asked curiously.

Ken sighed. "It's no match for your cooking; but it's not terrible. Mostly. But they cater to high school students and they're not exactly known for healthy eating habits." Ken told his mom about Julie, who spent three days eating nothing but donuts for "energy", and Goldberg, who ate that way everyday.

"Lovely." His mom commented with a bemused smile. Ken agreed.

"So I was thinking," his mother began, after taking the steaks out to the grill, "I might come down to the rink and watch you skate tomorrow. Would that be okay?"

"Are you serious?" Ken asked. His mother nodded.

"That'd be great." Ken said with a smile. He always liked having his parents watch him skate, even in practice. "I have to warn you though, I'm not even close to skating like I used to. I'm finally getting my triple flip consistent and my triple Lutz is pretty bad, I've only landed a few so far."

"Ken, do you remember Matt Anderson?" His mom asked, handing him an apple to slice and standing next to him with her own cutting board, chopping fruit.

"Sure." Ken replied, surprised by the abrupt subject change. The Andersons had lived a few houses down since before Ken and Matt were born and the two of them were best friends until the Andersons had moved to San Diego when Ken was six.

"Do you remember when you were eight and they came back to visit for a week?" She asked.

"Sure."

"And do you remember what you told Matt and his parents about your skating?"

"Honestly," Ken pause, wondering where she was going with this, "I have no idea. What'd I say?"

"You told them that you weren't very good." She answered, tossing grapes into a bowl.

"Well, I was eight; I wasn't very good." Ken replied, still confused.

"But when they watched you skate…"

"They all told me how good I was." Ken finished.

"They were all so impressed with how well you could skate. You have to remember, Ken," she said, turning to face him, "that not everyone can do what you do. That's part of what makes it special. You've always tended to underestimate what you do."

Ken frowned.


End file.
